Those Who Live in Darkness
by Sweet Honey-sempai
Summary: Tsuzuki's new partner has some problems, but so does he, and so does everyone in Meifu. An overhaul and re-imaging of the entire series, from Nagasaki to Gensoukai and beyond. Chapter 6: Hisoka makes a new friend, and Tsuzuki helps out an old one.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Notes:** This is an overhaul and re-imagining of the series, based on a series of sporks that I've done on my LJ over the past two or so years. Characterization, most notably Hisoka's (since it's long been my contention that Hisoka acts more like a spoiled brat than a victim of abuse, especially in the manga), and plot elements are going to be changed.

* * *

Prologue

* * *

"And here we have…Kurosaki Hisoka?"

Nakiru looked up from the sheaf of papers listing the recently departed. One would think an angel would have no problem memorizing ten sheets' worth of names, but taking on a humanoid body required a certain amount of sacrifice, and the unlimited memory guaranteed to angels was one of them. At least he could still "feel" the invisible soul floating before him, as plain-as-day to him on an intangible plane as a body might be on a tangible one. Most human bodies were specifically designed to not allow such a phenomena to happen.

"My name's Nakiru, and I'll be determining the ultimate fate of your soul today." He grinned, and felt a failed attempt at a smile in the soul before him. He frowned, but after all it was rare for the young ones to reciprocate his humor. Mostly it was the old ones who were happy. They'd had their fill of Uchuu and were looking forward to their new life among their passed loved ones; the young rarely had anything to specifically look forward to. "Okay…let's have a look at those memories then."

He could feel the soul assenting. Nakiru smiled and then turned inward, taking his field of vision away from his physical eyes and into his soul. Steeling himself, he dove into the soul he was judging, a faint silver cord keeping Nakiru's own soul attached to his body. Souls were porous; they had to be or else they'd never be able to interact with a body, and that fact made the life review process so much easier.

The first few years were pleasant enough, save for an instant when the boy was still a baby, but all Nakiru could garner was a lot of screaming. But then, you couldn't expect a baby to record details. After that the years slid by languidly, with nothing much to shout about. Plenty of adults around, a playmate here or there.

_"I want you to hurt them."_

Nakiru started, almost jumping out of Hisoka's soul. It was no surprise to hear others' voices; one couldn't have a life review without gauging how the soul in question had affected the people around them. But this voice felt different somehow. Nakiru pursed his lips and continued.

_"They killed my mother and you should hurt them."_

Almost impulsively Nakiru thrust himself towards the voice and the scenery changed; there was a woman in the forest screaming as she guided an infant out from her womb, alone. She continued to cry as the newborn wailed. Nakiru blew by the infant and toddler years, scanning the memories as if flipping through a book. It was hard to keep hold of this girl's life; every once in awhile he would slip back into the boy's. Learning to write by drawing in the dirt suddenly changed into banging on a cellar door screaming for someone to let him out.

But even then the girl's voice persisted.

_"They hate you, so why don't you help me?"_

_"No! I won't! Mama! Mama, let me out, please! I don't ever listen to her, ever! Mama!"_

Nakiru felt a spike of compassion and anger and sorrow coming at Hisoka from the other side of the door; there was no voice or presence, just raw emotion trying to claw its way through the barrier between Hisoka and whoever his friend was. That sort of phenomena was common in the life reviews of Empaths, which Nakiru was beginning to ascertain Hisoka was, but that didn't explain the presence of two sets of memories from obviously different time periods.

"Nakiru-dono?"

Nakiru fell backwards; his silver cord retracted and suddenly he was back in his body.

"Count?" He blinked, trying to steady himself.

"Come look at this, Nakiru-dono. It's about Kurosaki-kun."

"Stay here." Nakiru felt that Hisoka understood, and then turned, walking briskly towards the room adjacent to his.

"Look at that," the Count said, gesturing.

"That's what's being created for that soul you're judging."

Halfway completed stood two stiff, soulless bodies: one a blonde, green-eyed boy, and the other a black-haired, brown-eyed girl.

"Did you see her?"

"Yes." Nakiru pursed his lips. "Zuma's gonna have to pull them apart."

"I'll send Watson to call her down," the Count said, his usual authoritative nonchalance tainted slightly by worry. "It's been awhile since we've seen an exorcism of this sort. I'm assuming she's violent?"

"Very. Ask Zuma if she can stay awhile, just in case."

"What about Kurosaki-kun? Is he also dangerous?"

"Not that I've seen so far, but he's an Empath, so I don't know how much she's influenced him."

"An Empath?" The Count clicked his tongue sympathetically. "He'll probably be doubly glad to have her leave him, then."

Nakiru thought that perhaps, if the memory he'd last seen meant anything, it was too late for Hisoka to care if she did.


	2. Nagasaki File  Part I

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Notes:**

1. In Japan, handshakes are an acceptable way of greeting somebody, but the handshake is expected to be limp, and with no eye contact. Remember the scene in the anime where Tsuzuki and Muraki shake hands, and the surprised look on Tsuzuki's face when he practically had to pull his hand away? That's why.

2. In Japan in 2004, the number one group infected with HIV/AIDS was gay or bi men, followed by migrant workers, sex workers, IV drug users, and receivers of blood transfusions. My research also revealed that "Japanese society generally shows little tolerance for diversity in sexual orientation". Since the study was for 2004, attitudes in 1998 were probably worse.

3. Zombies are created when a magician captures a ghost and forces it back into his or her body. The body at that point is completely defunct, and the soul cannot influence its body as it did before. In short, zombies are trapped souls who can animate but otherwise can't influence their own bodies.

4. I changed Hisoka's character a lot, for several reasons. The short version of it is that I don't buy or particularly _like_ how he's presented in canon as being a victim of abuse. To get this out of the way, I'm fully aware that victims of abuse can lash out and become hyper-aggressive. I _know _abuse victims who have coped in this manner. But given my _own _experience with emotional abuse, I know it's equally possible to become shy and hyper-submissive. Given Hisoka's temperament as a child (as shown in Book 9), his isolation, his Empathic ability, the debilitating nature of his illness/curse, and a few details of my own creation, I think it simply more plausible to write Hisoka as I do here.

5. From clues in canon, I figure the Shinigami body is an exact copy of a body at the moment of death, which means things like viruses, conditions, scars, etc, are re-created automatically. The only difference between being a Shinigami and being a human is that the ability to age has been replaced by fast-acting healing abilities for injuries sustained while a Shinigami. In other words, Tsuzuki can heal an injury gotten on the job, but not his suicide scars. This is also why Tatsumi and Watari still wear glasses, Hisoka still has his curse marks, etc.

6. The Twenty-Six Martyrs Museum is a real museum on Nashizaki Hill in Nagasaki, dedicated to twenty-six Christians (mainly Japanese) who were martyred in 1622. I am relatively sure that's where Muraki took Tsuzuki in Episode 3.

* * *

1.

* * *

"Wakaba, these are delicious."

"Really?" Wakaba's face scrunched up with delight. "You like them?"

"Like them? I'm about to move into them." Tsuzuki reached for another muffin from the basket Wakaba had used to carry them into work and around the office.

"No room for a bed," Wakaba said, giggling. "This is the recipe _you_ gave me, by the way."

"Then explain to me why _yours _come out edible, Kannuki?" Terazuma growled from beside his partner.

"Don't be so rude, Hajime!" Wakaba hissed.

"I'd like to see _you_ cook better," Tsuzuki snarled, glaring daggers across the desk.

"Muffins are _baked_, jackass," Terazuma shot back.

"Hajime!" Wakaba yelped, her face flushed. "Tsuzuki, don't—"

"Please excuse the interruption. Will Tsuzuki Asato please report to my office. Tsuzuki Asato, please report to my office."

Konoe's voice, to Wakaba's relief, immediately diffused the tensions boiling between the two men, as well as quieted the din in the office.

"You think it's an assignment?" Wakaba asked.

"Maybe. Mind coming with me for this bout, if it is?" Tsuzuki asked, standing, inwardly smirking at the sudden territorial look on Terazuma's face.

"Sure," Wakaba said, oblivious to her partner's silent fuming. "If you need me, that is. It could be that he has a new partner for you."

"Yeah, it's not like you've ever run out of those," Terazuma muttered.

"Hajime, that's enough!"

Tsuzuki refrained from commenting; as it was he was already a few steps away from the desk. He stretched as he walked, trying to work out the kinks and Terazuma's last jibe. As much as he hated to admit it, he had a point. If this _was_ a new partner, he or she would be number…twelve? Yes, twelve; he recalled labeling Asuka Masaki as Number 11. Asuka and Number 10, Kobayashi Shouta, had both been transferred away from him; now they were partners in charge of Area 5.

"I'm here," Tsuzuki said, sighing out the immediate sting of memory as he opened the door to Konoe's office.

"Finally," Konoe grumbled. There were two chairs sitting in front of his desk. One was already occupied. "Tsuzuki, this is Kurosaki Hisoka," Konoe said, and Number Twelve stood up hastily. "Kurosaki, this is Tsuzuki Asato. You'll be partnering with him from here on out."

"Nice to meet you," Tsuzuki said, offering his hand. Hisoka took it, and Tsuzuki was surprised at the lightness of the boy's touch. Limp handshakes were polite, but this one felt dead in his palm.

"Likewise," Hisoka said, or Tsuzuki thought he said; his voice was low enough to be a loud exhale.

"Kurosaki is fresh out of training; he had a week left to go but we needed him now," Konoe said as Hisoka took his hand away. "Besides, this case involves him."

"Case?"

"Yep. Sit." He pushed a file on his desk towards the new partners as they obeyed. "It's in Nagasaki."

Fifty years later, and the thought of the city still gave Tsuzuki a knot in his stomach.

"Well, first of all, there's a soul missing. Himura Miya." Konoe opened the file and pushed it towards him, a picture resting atop a few pieces of paper showing a red-haired, blue-eyed girl. "She was struck by a car two days ago."

Tsuzuki thought he saw Hisoka flinch.

"She was born in Kamakura Village, where Kurosaki was born, too. They grew up together; that's how he's involved. When she didn't immediately follow the tunnel to Meifu, we figured Himura-san would attempt to go back home, and we'd send Kannuki and Terazuma to get her. But she's failed to do so, and furthermore…a few hours after her death there was a murder, and then two more yesterday. Nakiru gave us the description of the murderer from the victims' life reviews, and it matches this girl. What's odd is that the method of death was with conventional weapons…something a disembodied soul shouldn't be able to handle. That, and the victims clearly saw her, yet not one of them had exceptional spiritual power."

"So she's a zombie," Tsuzuki said. "Someone put her back in her body."

"Exactly. So you two are looking both for Himura-san and the person controlling her."

"Okay."

"Now…safety." Konoe folded his hands and leaned forward. "You need to be extra careful on this mission, Tsuzuki."

"I've handled zombies before, and that was when I only had Suzaku. You don't have to worry."

"No, that isn't…" Konoe ran a hand through his gray hair; Tsuzuki noted that sign of agitation and the uncharacteristic swiftness with which it appeared. "Kurosaki, could you please step outside? And shut the door behind you."

Hisoka rose, just barely nodding, and left. Hurriedly, Tsuzuki noticed.

"Tsuzuki, you should know that no one is particularly excited about Kurosaki being your partner," Konoe said once the door had clicked shut, "and he wouldn't be, if we had any other options."

"Why?" Tsuzuki glanced back at the door.

"It has to do with how he died. He…" Konoe grimaced, searching for tact. "Kurosaki has something known as HIV—"

"My partner has _AIDS_!"

"Keep it down!" Konoe yelped. "And no, he doesn't. Not yet. And I don't think he will, considering our healing abilities will keep it in check before it can get that serious."

"Shouldn't our healing abilities have _cured_ him of it already?"

"No. It's a virus, not a bacteria."

"You'd think they'd get rid of something like that—"

"Take it up with whoever made the rules. Now, as for the reason I want you to be extra careful…do you know how this virus is passed on?"

"Should I go wash my hand?" Tsuzuki glanced down nervously, holding his hand away from the rest of his body.

"No. You can't pass it with skin contact. What I'm worried about is blood. You absolutely _cannot_ touch his blood without some sort of protection; if you two swap blood there's an almost guarantee that you'll be infected."

"Okay."

"The other thing I'm worried about is…" Konoe sent a fleeting look at the door, and then lowered his voice. "We don't know how he was infected. There was a lock on that memory. Nakiru said it was stronger than the lock on past-life memories, so he didn't mess with it, just in case. Why this worries me is because the other way to contract the virus is…well…" He grimaced. "Aw, hell with it, we're grown-ups…through sex. And I'm certain that's how Kurosaki got it. No blood transfusions, no sign of drug use, so that's pretty much what we're left with."

"I am _not_ going to—"

"Good. Keep it that way. I want you on your guard."

"Kachou, are you kidding me? He's fifty pounds sopping wet. I _think_ I could take him in the unlikely event—"

"That's not what I was thinking," Konoe interrupted. "I know how you…look, just be careful, all right? Truthfully I'm more concerned about the blood, but it's my obligation to lay everything out on the table."

"All right, I'll stop being a hardass," Tsuzuki said, smiling weakly. "Thank you for your concern." He rose, picking up the file as he went. "Is that all you needed to tell me?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Kurosaki knows when to take his meds, so don't worry about that. Just keep your bodily fluids separate."

"That's not something you hear every day," Tsuzuki muttered, his lip twitching. "You want me to bring you a souvenir?"

"Castella Cake would be nice."

"Will do." Tsuzuki pushed open the door, which stopped abruptly before he was expecting it to. "Oh, crap, I'm sorry—"

Hisoka appeared from behind the door, holding his side where the knob had hit him.

"I didn't realize you were there, I'm so sorry…"

Tsuzuki stopped at the odd expression on Hisoka's face. His look of surprise melted as Hisoka shook his head and looked away.

"So, uh…you're good to go? You don't have to take…um…anything, before we go topside?"

"Not until noon."

"Okay. Good." Tsuzuki waved the file, trying to get Hisoka to look in his direction. "Why don't we peruse this at a restaurant in Nagasaki? It's almost lunchtime, anyway."

* * *

"So…tell me about this Himura-san."

"Miya is…was my friend," Hisoka said, pushing his food around his plate with his chopsticks. He hadn't yet taken a bite, though he had been staring intently at his food since it had been brought to him. "Her mother worked for my family."

"Do you think she might have made her daughter into a zombie?"

"She couldn't. She passed away late last year."

"Did she have other family?"

"I don't think so. Miya didn't know her father, and she never mentioned other relatives."

"Well, great. That about scratches off anyone who might have a motivation." Tsuzuki sighed. "Maybe…did they have any enemies?"

"Not that I ever hea—" Hisoka was cut off by the inordinately loud sound of a beeper. Hastily Hisoka shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small noisemaker, hands fumbling as he turned it off.

"What's that?" Tsuzuki asked.

"It's…noon."

"Oh." Tsuzuki almost guiltily watched Hisoka sift through his jacket pocket and then extract a white bottle. Deftly Hisoka pulled out a small tablet and popped it in his mouth. "Tastes that bad?" Tsuzuki asked, watching Hisoka's face as he chewed. Hisoka nodded and swallowed. "Food might help you wash it down, you know," Tsuzuki added, helpfully. He was surprised to see Hisoka immediately pick up his chopsticks. "Kurosaki?"

Something indescribable passed through Hisoka's eyes. "Just…my given name is fine, please."

"Okay. Hisoka." Tsuzuki smiled weakly. "I, uh…I've never really met anyone with your…condition before, so I don't really know…if I say something stupid, let me know, okay?"

Hisoka made a noise that Tsuzuki couldn't decipher. Tsuzuki returned to watching him, quickly yet obviously reluctantly, eat.

"Hisoka, I'm not gonna lie; this could turn out really, really badly," Tsuzuki said suddenly, quickly. "Getting a magician to give up a zombie is like pulling teeth out of a dragon. And this line of work can be agony if you know the victim; my last partner and I had a case that involved his cousin and…just…between your illness and the type of case and the fact that the victim is your friend, it might be best if you sit this one out. I can ask one of the other Shinigami to cover for y—"

Tsuzuki stopped abruptly at the stricken look on Hisoka's slightly greened face. Hisoka mumbled something indiscernible and then suddenly he was on his feet, disappearing as quickly as possible out the door. Tsuzuki sat dumbfounded only for a moment, before tossing money on the table and rushing outside after him, file in hand.

He walked outside to hear Hisoka retching; eyesight followed hearing and he found Hisoka inside an alleyway, leaning against one of the walls, his ragged breathing and the slight stench drifting up from the ground telltale. Tsuzuki hesitated for a moment, before reminding himself that casual touch was not an exchange of fluids, and settled his hand on Hisoka's back.

Bad move. Hisoka flinched violently, his body jerking forward; Tsuzuki stepped back immediately and anxiously watched his partner try to catch his breath. After what felt like hours Hisoka managed to use the wall to straighten up and turn around, but the effort seemed to drain out what little color there was in his face.

"Do you need the Infirmary?"

Hisoka shook his head. "It's fine," he managed to say, between breaths. "It's normal."

Tsuzuki wryly thought that "normal" wasn't a term he was willing to apply to the situation. He surveyed the pale, sweating, slightly shaking frame before him, passing a few possible scenarios through his mind before settling on one. "I think you should lie down anyway. We were probably gonna have to get a hotel room for the night, might as well get it now."

Tsuzuki wasn't sure if Hisoka wanted to protest. The labored breathing precluded him from speaking, if he did, and Tsuzuki had a feeling it wasn't the only circumstance silencing him.

* * *

"Shokan-ka, Konoe speaking."

"What the _hell _is wrong with my partner?"

"Hello to you, too, Tsuzuki," Konoe muttered, rubbing his temples. "Did something happen?"

The receptionist had stared at Hisoka incessantly throughout the check-in process, despite Tsuzuki's best attempts to distract her with conversation. Once they were safely inside a room Tsuzuki had herded Hisoka into bed, and with that task completed Tsuzuki had taken to the balcony, a cell phone specially built to foster communication between dimensions in hand.

"He barely looks in my general direction, he jumps out of his skin when someone touches him, and, oh yeah, he claims it's completely normal that he threw up everything he's eaten in the past two days," Tsuzuki said, glancing back inside the room through the sliding glass doors.

"Well, Hazama-sensei knows the full list of symptoms, but as I understand it, nausea is normal for people with his condition," Konoe said, wearily. "I'm sure the stress of being put out on the field with a case this personal just got to him, is all."

"That doesn't explain his behavior, though," Tsuzuki pressed.

"You know I'm not allowed to discuss our agents' personal lives, Tsuzuki."

"Kachou, as much as we're neither of us thrilled with it, the Count worships me. If I break into the files he won't bat an eye. And Enma will never find out."

There was a brief silence, preceding a defeated sigh. The master of the Hall of Candles was indeed unnaturally interested in Tsuzuki, harboring an infatuation that had gotten Tsuzuki out of more scrapes than Konoe cared to keep track of. "Give me a second…"

Tsuzuki heard Konoe typing at his keyboard; he began impatiently pacing, glancing back into the room every few seconds as he did so.

"Here we are," Konoe said, glancing over the page before him. Nakiru provided summaries of each Shinigami's life review; Konoe sometimes wondered how the angel brought himself to type up some of the stories he'd had to. "Kurosaki Hisoka. Well, the touching thing is because of his Empathy."

"His what?"

"His Empathy. I thought he'd tell you about it right off the bat…" There was another pause as Konoe scanned the synopsis of Hisoka's life. "I guess he wouldn't," he said, and Tsuzuki noticed his sad tone of voice. "Well, Kurosaki's got a special ability to sense emotions from other people. According to Nakiru, when Kurosaki was a kid he was possessed by the ghost of a half-demon who had Empathy, and she manifested that ability in him. For some reason, Moriko—the ghost—was trapped so thoroughly inside his soul that they had to call Zuma to separate them. So his ability is unusually strong, and touch exacerbates it. On top of that, he's been near comatose for the past couple years, excluding his training period, so he doesn't have much practice with keeping his emotions and others separate. So…well, try not to touch Kurosaki and you'll be set."

"That's another thing," Tsuzuki said. "He doesn't want to be known by his family name. Specifically said that just his given name is fine."

Konoe sighed. Reading Hisoka's biography a few times over made it easier to digest but no less bitter a pill. "The house he comes from is…not pleasant. Nakiru checked through some of his ancestors' files and mentioned that demonic activity has been present there for generations. So when his parents found out that he'd been possessed, they…didn't react too well."

"How so?" Tsuzuki asked, a pit forming in his stomach. Once more he glanced back into the room. Hisoka's eyes were open, and he wondered if Hisoka could sense this conversation. Tsuzuki sent him a smile and tried to project a friendly feeling at him, hoping it wouldn't be tainted with the trepidation he was currently experiencing.

"Well, the father apparently was extremely cold to him."

Tsuzuki knew what that felt like. Takashi had been distant to some degree with all of his children, but most especially with Tsuzuki. Not that Tsuzuki entirely blamed him.

"And the mother…well, Nakiru thinks based on Kurosaki's memories that there's something mentally wrong with her. She was actively terrified of her son's abilities, and she…lashed out."

"Lashed out?" The pit grew bigger. "As in—?"

"As in physical abuse, and isolation. It would appear he spent a good chunk of his life…whenever his father wasn't around, this says…locked up in the basement. So if he acts like he expects you to punch him in the face at the slightest provocation…well, he probably does."

Objectively Tsuzuki knew that child abuse existed. He'd brought in the souls of several children who'd been battered by their parents, if not outright died by their hand, but each report of a parent turning on their child gave him the same sense of shock that such a thing was possible. Until the moment of her death Aimi had been the consummate mother; he couldn't recall her ever raising a hand to one of her children. She had even died, he remembered with what felt like a fist squeezing his heart, trying to protect him.

"That girl you're looking for?" Konoe continued. "Only friend, aside from imaginary ones."

"He didn't get along with any of the doctors when he was in the hospital?"

"He was never in a hospital. Hazama-sensei is the first doctor he's seen about his illness."

Later, Tsuzuki would swear he felt his jaw shatter against the cement floor of the balcony. "So…so his family just _let him_ _die_?"

"You could say that, if you were being completely honest."

"And you let him out on the field with baggage like that? Are you _insane_?"

"Like I said earlier, no one is happy with this situation, but it's the best we can do for now."

"But how is this supposed to work? If he's terrified of _me_, then against an actual enemy…"

"Training said he could hold his own. The father apparently deigned to spend enough time with him to teach him martial arts, so he's got that." Konoe heard Tsuzuki's skeptical silence as clearly as a verbal objection, and sighed. "Tsuzuki, we're not expecting him to be much use as a fighter. Frankly, that's what _you're_ for. It's his Empathy that makes him valuable."

"I don't like this, Kachou."

"It's not like he's the only Shinigami with problems, Tsuzuki. You know that better than anyone."

Tsuzuki had no argument. If his ninety-eight years of existence had taught him anything, it was that there was virtually no limit to the horrors a person could inflict on themselves or others.

"If you're unable to work with him, we could arrange for a switch with another sector…"

"No, that's not necessary." And probably not feasible; he couldn't think of anyone in Shokan-ka who'd be particularly thrilled, for one reason or another, with being transferred. He imagined Hisoka wouldn't particularly want his illness and his personal history bandied about to anyone else, either; not everyone in the department was as circumspect as he was. "I was just wondering what was up. Thanks for the information, Kachou."

"I'll thank _you_ to keep it quiet. The Count's not as enamored of me as he is of you."

"I'll gladly switch places," Tsuzuki said, laughing.

"No thanks. Get back to work."

"Will do."

Tsuzuki ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket, trying and failing to sigh out the sudden load he felt on his shoulders. He turned around, pulled the sliding glass door open, and stepped back inside. Hisoka had sat up against the headboard, and was staring at the far wall.

"Feeling any better?" Tsuzuki asked.

"Yeah," Hisoka responded quietly.

"You should probably have some water if your stomach's settled; you get dehydrated after throwing up," Tsuzuki continued, walking into the bathroom. A stack of disposable cups sat next to the sink; he filled one with tap water and returned to the main room. He noticed Hisoka staring at him in the way a cat not particularly inclined to play stares at the yarn being dangled before it; good, at least Hisoka was looking at him. He stopped at the bed and held the cup of water out to Hisoka; as Hisoka took it his fingers brushed against Tsuzuki's, and Tsuzuki tried to use the brief contact to push through his feeling of concern.

Hisoka blinked in surprise at the pinprick of intense compassion. The notion that other people did not share his family's view of him was not foreign to him, but with the exception of Miya, said others' consideration tended to come in a detached manner. The people who'd trained him knew about his childhood, and each, he felt when he lost strict control of his Empathy, felt towards him the same sense of vague pity. It was a welcome change from outright loathing, but it didn't exactly help that these same people were throwing him in front of various magical creatures, subdued but nonetheless violent, and calling it "practice". That sort of uninterested sympathy wasn't something he could count on. It had been present in some of the people his mother screamed at to do something about the monster. Sometimes it had been present in his father.

Moreover, he felt darkness in each of his trainers that reminded him of his family and unnerved him. When Tsuzuki walked into Konoe's office, the latent yet seemingly ever-present sense of _shamehatelonelinessrageguilt_ emanating from him nearly sent Hisoka reeling; it felt like an explosive merely waiting for it's fuse to light. He'd been more than grateful when Konoe sent him away from that thick layer of nearly every negative emotion he could imagine, even knowing that Konoe would be telling Tsuzuki about the infection; it gave him a chance to try to get a firmer handle on his Empathy. The amalgamation had since been covered by frustration and nervousness; those were still there, but they had shifted in form, to that surge of concern…something he hadn't felt in a long time, something very few people had shown him.

"Should you take your meds again? You threw up right after you took them…"

Hisoka drifted out of his thoughts and back into reality. Tsuzuki had gone over to the chair Hisoka had shrugged his jacket onto when they first arrive, his hands resting outside the zipped-up pockets, whose depth hid the bottles of medication rather well.

"I…probably should."

"Which one is it?"

"The right side."

Tsuzuki unzipped and then dug through the pocket, bringing out the bottle, which he then took with him back to Hisoka.

"Thank you."

"No problem." Tsuzuki watched Hisoka's slightly shaking hands fight with the bottle; he contemplated offering help, but Hisoka managed to pop open the lid before Tsuzuki could work up the courage to speak.

"I have to tell you that I was speaking to Konoe about you just now," Tsuzuki said, after Hisoka had, with difficulty, swallowed the medication. "Because I figure you'd probably sense it off me if you haven't already. We don't have to get into the whole thing, but…I'm sorry if I was callous earlier suggesting that you not be on this case. Himura-san was…_is _important to you. You have a right to make sure she passes on safely."

To say that Hisoka was shocked was an understatement. The amount of genuine apologies he remembered receiving was something he could count on his fingers, one of which being Tsuzuki's earlier apology for hitting him with the door.

"But we've still got to put some things in order before we can go on," Tsuzuki continued, not wanting to dwell on the look on Hisoka's face. "Your Empathy…how strong is it? Is it going to get in the way of you functioning?"

"I can control it, usually." Two things he had to thank his parents for were the long hours of meditation that accompanied martial arts lessons, and the silence of his basement cell. The quietness of both allowed him the time and energy to fight off taking Moriko's thirst for blood on as his own, and consequently practice for the few times he was in the presence of more than one person.

"Mm." Tsuzuki frowned, unsatisfied with the lack of conviction in Hisoka's answer. He glanced down at his hand, deliberating for a few seconds, before muttering a short incantation and catching the fuda as it materialized between his fingertips. "This," he brandished the piece of paper, "is a sort of one-way shield. If I was in a battle, I could send magic attacks through it, but it would fend off magic attacks from my opponent. I'm not sure if it'll work with keeping out other people's emotions, but we could try it. If it works, you'll be able to keep out all the mental noise until you actually want to hear it."

"Won't you need it?" Hisoka asked, as Tsuzuki slipped it into his hand, trying not to let their fingers touch.

"Nah. I've got other fuda. And I've got six…you know what Shiki are, right? They explained Gensoukai to you?" Hisoka nodded. "I have six Shiki contracted to me, if I need extra protection."

"…Thank you."

Tsuzuki waved his hand dismissively. "It isn't a problem. And lastly…if you feel sick or weak or anything, please, tell me. I…well, I've been a Shinigami for a long time and I've partnered with all sorts of people; there's not much I can't adapt to. We can make this partnership work, but only if you keep me informed of what's going on with you, all right?"

"All right," Hisoka answered automatically, dumbfounded. The last time he could remember anyone bothering this much with him was Miya from four years ago, sneaking into wherever he was sleeping that day to make as sure as much she could that he was comfortable and had eaten what had been brought to him earlier, before the constant pain and fever robbed him of an attention span, if not consciousness outright.

"So…ok then," Tsuzuki said, trying to smile some semblance of confidence into Hisoka. "I guess, since we don't know who's behind the zombification, the next thing to do is track down Himura-san…which should be fun, since it's not like Nagasaki's a huge city or anything…"

"Miya has…" Hisoka trailed off, suddenly remembering how adults usually felt about him speaking with prompting.

"Hmm? What were you saying?"

"There's…something distinct about people's emotions," Hisoka said, slightly incredulous that he was getting the chance to speak about his ability without having to apologize profusely for it. "They're unique to the individual."

"How so?"

"In my head, an image or a scent or…something will come up that tells me that I'm feeling the emotions of a certain person. Miya called them "heartprints" when we were little kids. When I would feel her emotions I'd see a bird singing. But with Moriko-" He cut himself off abruptly.

"I know about Moriko," Tsuzuki said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Moriko was…I'd see a snake, instead. And, with Miya, the closer I was to her, the more vivid the image was."

"Would you be able to locate a person using their heartprint?"

"I could but…the problem is keeping everyone else out. I was working on that before…" Hisoka looked flustered, searching for an appropriate demarcation of time. "Before I…before I got sick," he finally said, quietly.

"Think you can try it now?"

"Yeah. I worked on it a bit during Training."

"Well, let's try to narrow it down a bit in terms of locale," Tsuzuki said, crossing to the chair, onto which he had dropped the file when they first walked in. He picked the manila folder up, flipping through the pages one-handedly as he returned to the bedside, dragging the chair with him. "There's probably a list of where the murders occurred in here…ah." Tsuzuki pulled a single paper out of the sheaf and set the rest of it aside, on the other side of Hisoka, and sat down. "The first took place inside the May Hotel, in the gift shop. The next was in…that's odd."

"What is it?"

"The second was inside the Twenty-Six Martyrs Museum," Tsuzuki said, his eyes narrowing. "And the third was just outside the grounds of Church of St. Michael. So we can go ask Father Hakuro about it." Tsuzuki glanced at Hisoka to see if he looked puzzled; he did. "Father Hakuro is our contact in Nagasaki. He's a priest…well, duh, ha, and he's in charge of the parochial school attached to the church. He's helped me out before. We can go ask him if he saw anything weird yesterday." Tsuzuki stood. "Are you okay to go out again?"

Hisoka nodded as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and landed on his feet. He stood too quickly and the blood rushed to his head, making him sway; Tsuzuki's hand automatically, immediately went to grab his arm. Both of them seized up for a moment, instinctively, until Hisoka came out of his flinch looking nonplussed.

"I guess it works," Hisoka said, crinkling the fuda slightly between his fingers.

"Excellent." Tsuzuki smiled. "Right now it's tied to _my _magic; I'll show you how to draw some of the more specialized fuda like this when we're done with this ca-if we have time."

Tsuzuki caught himself before either of their hopes were raised, but not before both were dashed.

"So just…hang onto that for now." Hisoka made an acknowledging noise, bringing the hand that held the fuda against his chest. "Then...I guess we can get going."


	3. Nagasaki File  Part II

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yami no Matsuei.

**Notes and Replies**

1. Kayla asked me why I reduced the number of Tsuzuki's Shikigami from twelve to six. There are a couple reasons. One is that it's Mary Sue-ish for Tsuzuki to have twelve when most people can only have up to three; six is more than enough to show that he's above average. Another is that I don't have enough plot for all twelve to be involved in, so I cut some of the extraneous Shiki. Also, there are plotlines involving Tenko and Rikugo that require them to not be contracted to Tsuzuki. So Tsuzuki is left with Suzaku, Seiryuu, Byakko, Touda, Taimo, and Kijin. Rikugo, Tenko, Genbu, Riko, Kurikara, and Oryu will also be in the story, as well as others. Tenkuu, Daion, and Kouchin have been transplanted into the Ministry as Shinigami.

2. St. Michel, the school in Volume 4, appears as a multi-level complex sitting just off the beach; I adjusted it slightly so that both church and school are on a small cliff that drops down onto the shoreline. This arc takes place on a Saturday in Late May of 1998.

3. A popular souvenir from Kamakura is hatosabure, a biscuit shaped like a pigeon.

4. A ghost is a disembodied soul; it looks exactly like the person did at the moment of death. Shinigami, other ghosts, and humans with a certain amount of spiritual power can see ghosts. What normally happens when a person dies is that the "silver chord" holding their soul to their body turns into a wormhole that leads to Meifu. In the case of zombies, who are trapped inside a body instead of naturally inhabiting it, their silver chord has been wasted on an unused portal, and a wormhole does not appear when they are released; they instead accompany the Shinigami through a permanent portal that leads between Meifu and Uchuu.

5. Ararizuma is, like Nakiru, an angel that assists Shokan-ka. She trains the exorcists, and performs the more difficult exorcisms. She was mentioned in the prologue using her nickname, Zuma.

6. The Kyushu Maple tree is indigenous to the Nagasaki region.

* * *

Nagasaki File - Part II

* * *

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing you, Tsuzuki-kun."

Father Hakuro was, in many ways, a lot like Konoe, not least of all in appearance: short and round, with graying hair and a grizzled face. They were similar in personality, as well; both strict and no-nonsense, but harboring affection for the members of their respective flock. Father Hakuro, however, was both slightly less covertly frivolous and slightly more covertly welcoming; the door to St. Michael's was continually left open unless he was off the premises.

"It's been a while, Father," Tsuzuki responded warmly, stepping inside the church's threshold, shadowed by Hisoka. Without looking he dipped his fingers into the basin of holy water and crossed himself.

"Indeed it has been, if you have a new partner," Father Hakuro said, glancing at the smaller figure behind Tsuzuki who had awkwardly placed his hand on the basin and wondered if he should do as Tsuzuki had. "Konoe told me about you. You must be Kurosaki Hisoka. Welcome to the job." He smiled; Hisoka bobbed his head in greeting. "I suppose you two are here about the murder that occurred yesterday."

"It's unfortunately not a social call, yeah." Tsuzuki leaned against a pew, folding his arms.

"I already spoke with the police last night, so I'll tell you what I told them. I, personally, did not see the murder; I was inside the school at the time. However, I did see two strangers lurking about on my way over, and I made my way over to speak with them."

"Can you describe them?"

"One of them was a young lady with red hair." Hisoka shifted. "The other one was a man, practically aglow with white. Clothes, hair…even one of his eyes. A prosthetic, I presumed."

"Did you notice anything else odd about them?"

"He seemed unusually touchy with a girl half his age." Hisoka's head snapped up. Tsuzuki glanced at his partner and was immediately taken aback; for the first time that day the light in Hisoka's eyes was that of anger. "She parted peacefully before I reached them, though."

"Did you speak to the man?"

"Yes. He said that he was interested in the area and would be around throughout the week. I've been trying to keep an eye out for him."

"All right." Tsuzuki straightened. "How strong is that holy water, Father? You think it could cure a zombie?"

"Not really. That's just tap water I got out of the sink this morning." Father Hakuro gave a wry laugh. "Maybe after tomorrow's services, it'll be of some use, but for now…"

"I see." Tsuzuki looked slightly crestfallen. "Well, thank you for the information, Father. Would you excuse us?"

"Of course. I'm glad to be of help."

"Hisoka?" The rage in Hisoka's eyes had been replaced by mere intensity by the time Tsuzuki approached him. "It might be best to not stay here for long. If what Father Hakuro's said means anything, we should be seeing Himura-san and her manipulator pretty soon, and I'd rather not jeopardize the church and school."

Hisoka nodded, and followed Tsuzuki as he went out the door, calling his good-bye to the priest.

"The fact that Kachou didn't send an exorcist with us means that there are none available at the moment," Tsuzuki said once they were safely outside. "And we probably don't have time to track down stronger holy water. The best-case scenario is that we find Himura-san on her own and get her to Meifu before her controller's the wiser; it'll be easier to find an exorcist there. Worst-case, we'll have to force him to lift his spell."

"How do we do that?"

"Hopefully without killing him," Tsuzuki said, grimacing. "Sometimes you can bargain with a manipulator, but usually it comes down to knocking them unconscious and dumping some holy water on the victim before they can wake up. In any case, I want you to focus on protecting yourself." Tsuzuki punctuated his sentence with an abrupt halt; Hisoka came to a stop a beat afterwards. "The fuda I gave you is pretty powerful, but since it's _mine_ it won't work at full capacity, and I don't know how strong this guy is. And the downside is that fuda only work against spiritual attacks; they won't protect you from conventional weapons. Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," Hisoka said, even though his head remained turned, his eyes trained on something in the distance. Tsuzuki followed his gaze until it came to rest on a blur of white standing below the cliff where St. Michael's was located, almost indistinguishable from the sand he stood upon.

"And now you see why we work in pairs," Tsuzuki said with half a smile. His gaze swept the length of the shoreline. "I don't see anyone with him…Hisoka, stay here and try to feel Himura-san out. Come get me immediately if you find her; I'm gonna go down and see if I can get anything from him."

"All right," Hisoka said, catching his lower lip between his teeth. Tsuzuki paused to give him a fuller, more reassuring smile, before walking away, trying to keep as close to the side of the cliff as possible, his eyes trained on the figure below.

* * *

"Nice day for a stroll on the beach."

"Indeed." The vision of white turned almost as if he were a leaf blown in the wind and Tsuzuki was momentarily taken aback; the man exuded an almost archetypal angelic beauty, as if he had stepped out of the stained glass that made up St. Michael's windows. "I'm rather drawn to the ocean."

"It _is_ really beautiful," Tsuzuki said, glancing at the water and then re-training his gaze on it once the truthfulness of his assessment sunk in. "It's a whole other world down there. When you think about how many creatures exist in it, and _because_ of it…this planet would be dead without the oceans."

"I notice you didn't mention its destructive power." Tsuzuki turned his head back to the man, who had not stopped staring at him. Both his natural and glass eye felt as though they were trying to burn holes in Tsuzuki's face. "An ocean can wipe out millions of people and bury the same amount of years of history within minutes, on a whim. And it's not as if what's inside it is any more peaceful." His voice slowed, as if he were carefully calculating a math problem. "Currents, predators, pollution…the ocean is, I would argue, the single most destructive force of nature on Earth, and yet we continue to flock to it as if it were a dear friend. How it remains so majestic and beloved despite its dual nature is fascinating to me."

"I…suppose…"

"People are much the same, I feel. Beautiful, violent, powerful, and terribly, terribly, fragile."

Tsuzuki imagined if he had radar for probable psychopaths implanted in his mind, it would be going crazy at the moment. The man seemed to pick up on his trepidation; he smiled and turned his head away as if indulging a precocious child.

"Forgive my boring talk. I was an obstetrician before I became a surgeon; it seems that it all comes back to people with me."

"There's nothing to forgive."

"My name is Muraki Kazutaka, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you…"

"Tsuzuki Asato. Are you here alone?"

"I had a young lady companion with me earlier, but she seems to have wandered off somewhere."

"Oh, I see," Tsuzuki said, trying to keep his jaw from clenching. "Any idea where she might have gone?"

"The whole area is of interest to her. Though she'll probably go where there's people."

A sudden noise caught both their attentions; a large rock was tumbling down the side of the cliff. Tsuzuki looked up to see the last of Hisoka before he disappeared from sight.

"Quite a lot of delinquents in the area, as I understand it," Muraki said, unperturbed. "There was a murder nearby yesterday…I suppose it's rather dangerous around here."

"Strange, considering the church is right there," Tsuzuki said, narrowing his eyes. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course. I should probably be on my way as well. Oh, Tsuzuki-san?"

"Yes?" Tsuzuki stopped mid-step and glanced back at Muraki.

"Given recent events, may I suggest that you be very careful? You wouldn't want to lose anyone close to you, after all."

Tsuzuki was tempted to summon Suzaku right then and there, but Hisoka's signal overrode Tsuzuki's instinct, and he merely mumbled a generic thanks as he hurried off.

* * *

After Tsuzuki had left, Hisoka had retreated to the side of the church both closest to the cliff's edge and furthest from the sun, rested in the unseasonably cold shade, and tried to feel Miya's consciousness. Luckily, the facts that it was a Saturday and that yesterday's murder took place not far away from the grounds kept the tourists, students, and faithful away, making it easy for him to release his Empathy. He tried to imagine his power as the snake Moriko had been, slithering out in front of his body, flicking its tongue out to smell the surrounding area to bring in data that could be separated calmly and methodically in his head.

His might have been the only snake to balk and snap back at the vision of a mutilated bird. Hisoka had seen Miya as a pigeon, one that sang rather than cooed, ever since Satsuki-san had taken her on a day trip around the city and she came back singing "Kagome, Kagome" at the top of her lungs, bearing hatosabure for them to share. Dead and dying birds, especially pigeons, had been terrifying and revolting to him since about the same time, but the more than high possibility that the animal represented Miya prevented him from staying where he was. The snake was sent out again, and when it found the bird moving towards the doorway to St. Michael's, he picked up the nearest loose heavy object and tossed it down the cliff, before rushing into the church.

"Miya!"

Father Hakuro, being spry for his age and well-used to the dangers that accompanied being an associate of Shinigami, had grabbed the nearest candelabra when from the corner of his eye he saw a butcher knife aiming for his body and swung it around, the candlestick catching the hilt of the knife and holding it inches above his head. With a burst of energy he lurched forward, sending Miya careening backwards, crashing into a pew and almost onto the floor. The noise was matched by Father Hakuro's pained cry; he hadn't pulled his arm away fast enough, and her knife had come down and sliced through his sleeve and skin.

Miya lifted her head and tried to train her eyes, simultaneously bloodthirsty and vacant, on Father Hakuro, but her view was blocked by Hisoka's body rigidly trying to become a blockade between her and her target. Her soul screamed out for him; it was this part that Hisoka sensed and almost distracted him from the knife she aimed at his face. Luckily the reflexes that his illness hadn't quite robbed him of kicked in just in time to grab her by both wrists and push her away, but no sooner did he do so than did Miya whirl around and attack him again, this time knocking them both to the floor. She was heavier than he was; she always had been, and just as in their playful wrestling matches of a decade ago she had pinned him to the floor with her legs, their arms struggling against each other for dominance; the laughter that accompanied their games had now been replaced by Miya's feral almost-snarls. The knife fell from her hand and slit the side of Hisoka's face like a paper cut; her wrists tried to flail in Hisoka's grasp, to claw his face. He didn't know if he had the power to perform the spell, but he didn't have the time or strength to keep fighting her off, with Father Hakuro bleeding on the floor and Miya's controller somewhere nearby…

"Rin Hei Tou Sha Kai Jin Retsu Zai Zen…Reibaku!"

A blinding light assaulted his eyes, crowding out his other senses so that only after the light subsided did he feel Miya's now soulless body collapse on top of his. Summoning what little strength he felt he had left, he sat up, letting the body slide off him.

"Hisokkun?"

Miya's specter floated above the body it had just been freed from, staring down at him, eyes wide with shock.

"What on Earth was that?" a bewildered voice demanded from the back of the church.

Tsuzuki stood in the doorway, still blinking away the light that had flashed in front of his eyes just as he arrived at the church. Hisoka stood up hastily.

"_That_ was extremely impressive," Father Hakuro said, his hand pressing tattered cloth to his blooded arm. "Tsuzuki-kun, some assistance, please?"

"Hisoka, don't!" Tsuzuki said, sharper than he meant to, seeing Hisoka start for Father Hakuro.

Hisoka balked, looking stricken. Miya, her eyes still betraying her stunned state, moved towards Hisoka, instinctually protective.

"It's…your face. It's bleeding," Tsuzuki said, mentally kicking himself for his harshness as he hurried down the aisle towards the priest. Hisoka almost brought his hand up to his face, but at the last moment thought better of it and instead wiped the trickle of blood he was now beginning to feel away with his sleeve. He felt a mild tingling in his cheek, which he supposed was indicative of the healing abilities he now had going to work on his skin.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki had made it to Father Hakuro and now allowed himself to be used as a support for the priest. "Where did you learn Reibaku?"

"She…Ararizuma-san…used it on me. To get Moriko out."

"You were able to use it and didn't think to let me _know_?"

Shit. The panic button in Hisoka's mind was dangerously close to being pushed. "I didn't know that I could perform the spell. I've never done it before."

"You've…you've _never_ done it before?"

"Tsuzuki-kun, perhaps this could wait?" Father Hakuro interjected.

"Crap, I'm sorry, Father."

"Quite all right," Father Hakuro said, only somewhat sarcastic. "The wound's not too deep. There'll be bandages in the nurse's office in the school…"

"Hisoka, I'm going to take Father Hakuro over to the school," Tsuzuki called over. "You should take Himura-san to Meifu as quickly as possible. There's a portal set up near that maple tree." Tsuzuki waved his free hand in the general direction of the Kyushu Maple that bloomed on the church grounds. "I'll meet you there when I'm done here."

Hisoka nodded and looked back towards Miya. Her stunned expression was beginning to fade, and after Tsuzuki bore Father Hakuro out of the church and shut the heavy doors behind him, it was gone completely.

Hisoka had been taught that ghosts could cry; in fact, when all one was, was a soul, it was easier to emote. Any manifestation of emotion would have, however, no physical presence, just as it's owner. The image of a tear sliding out of Miya's eye, dripping off her face, and disappearing without leaving a mark on the floor suddenly slammed Hisoka with the truth that his friend was dead, and even now that he was protected against her emotions, he still would not be able to touch her.

"You didn't kill anyone," Hisoka said quietly, slowly. "You couldn't help what you were doing. They're not going to hold it against you."

"I know," Miya choked out. "I know it wasn't me, I know…"

"Why were you in Nagasaki?" Hisoka asked, trying to lead her mind away from whatever haunted it, suddenly very grateful that he'd resisted Moriko's every attempt to incite him to violence.

"It was as good a place as any to go. Your mother put me out."

"Why?" Hisoka asked, surprised.

"Because I was your friend," Miya said bitterly. "She doesn't want to acknowledge that you ever existed. And with Mom gone, it was easy enough to get rid of me."

"My father allowed that?"

"He's getting worse, Hisokkun. Some days he can barely function. She's pretty much taken over for him."

Hisoka chewed the inside of his lower lip. He had been aware of the vengeful spirit inside his father since his Empathy began developing, when an inner voice he didn't recognize saw in Nagare a father than wasn't his.

"I didn't really want to stick around," Miya continued quietly. "First Mom and then you…I'd just be waiting for Nagare-dono to die if I'd stayed."

"But _you'd _still be alive."

Miya imitated a smile. "At least this way we can keep our promise, right? If you're not contractually obligated to stay as a…a Shinigami, is it?"

"Shinigami, yeah. And they could probably do without me."

"That man you were with seemed very short with you."

"Tsuzuki's…he's better than my family. A lot better. He's nervous, but he treats me like…" Hisoka wasn't sure what word to use. "Equal" felt too presumptuous, "human" only slightly less so. He shrugged. "I don't know. He's not interested in locking me in basements, at least."

"That's good." Miya almost laughed at how absurd the statement sounded.

"We should go," Hisoka said, the mention of Tsuzuki reminding him of his advice. "I have to take you to judgment before we can decide anything."

"What's…what's judgment like?"

"It's not…well it _won't_ be a big deal for you," Hisoka said, beginning to walk up the aisle towards the door, Miya floating after him. "Nakiru is the angel in charge of judgment; he'll explore your entire soul to see if he wants to send you to Heaven or Hell. He'll ask you what you think you deserve, too, I guess for comparison's sake. If you want to be a Shinigami or just stay in Meifu, he'll decided whether or not to allow you."

"Regular people can stay in Meifu?"

"Yeah. They're only allowed to visit Earth once, though."

"I see." Miya was quiet for a moment as Hisoka opened the door and stepped out into the light. "Hisokkun?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you…when Nakiru looks into your soul…do you see everything, too?"

"Yes."

"So I'll have to…?"

Even with his Empathy inhibited he knew what she was thinking. "You didn't do anything wrong, Miya."

"I know I didn't, but…I don't want to…"

"It's not that bad." Hisoka remembered viewing his life with detachedness, relief that everything in his memories was behind him. "You'll get through it fine. I'm sure when you go to Heaven you'll forget about it, anyway."

"That's what happens?"

Hisoka wasn't sure. He'd only heard rumors about what living in Heaven was like, and as he was contemplating whether or not to admit that to Miya, he heard her release a strangled cry that knew it was too late to be a warning. It took a moment before he registered the sudden agony running just beside the length of his spine. Before his brain shut down he figured that he'd been stabbed, and he almost warned Miya to stay away.

* * *

"The virus dies, you know."

"I'm sorry?" Tsuzuki looked back from where he was rummaging through the cabinets, looking for a roller bandage.

"HIV is delicate. When outside the body, the temperature change will cause it to die within a few minutes. It was probably prudent to keep Kurosaki-kun away, since his wound was fresh, but keep that information in mind for the future."

"So Konoe told you." Tsuzuki, finding the object of his search, closed the cabinet and crossed the room to the sink, where Father Hakuro had been rinsing off his arm.

"He thought it'd be best to inform me. I knew about that little fact already, though. Last year one of my students was afraid they'd contracted the virus, so I did some research on it."

"Hm." Tsuzuki pressed one end of the bandage to the cut in Father Hakuro's arm and began unwinding it. "Did you happen to find out how to _not_ act like a total asshole towards someone who has it?"

Father Hakuro laughed wryly. "My student, fortunately, did _not_ have HIV, so I never got around to discovering the fine art of "not acting like a total"…what was the word you used, Tsuzuki-kun?"

"Sorry, Father," Tsuzuki said, with half a smile. "I _am _serious, though. I've already had to apologize profusely to him for saying something stupid, and I've known him for maybe three hours. And he's…let's just say he hasn't been very well accepted in the past, and not just because of his disease. I feel like I'm just going to make it worse for him."

"On the contrary, Tsuzuki-kun, I feel like you might make it better for him."

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, you know what my student body is like. Most of them probably wouldn't remember what an apology _is_, if they didn't have to express their remorse for existing every day when they go home. To actually _receive _an apology makes them feel respected. Human, the way God made them. Rather than obsess over messing up, recognize the fact that he probably appreciates the fact that you were sorry and you let him know. Especially if he's been as ostracized as you imply."

"I suppose…" Tsuzuki said reluctantly, coming to the end of the bandage and beginning to secure it.

"And another thing, Tsuzuki-kun. You have the largest capacity to accept others that I have ever seen. A person who bears no ill-will is easy to forgive, and moreover, befriend. I believe that is why so many people took to our Lord…He said many things that, by our standards, were insensitive, but He sincerely cared for the people He spoke to, even as He reprimanded or even insulted them."

"Are you comparing me to Jesus Christ, Father?" Tsuzuki asked, smiling playfully as he took his hands away from the tied-off bandage.

"It is our duty to emulate the Lord, Tsuzuki-kun," Father Hakuro replied, equally puckish and yet earnest. "I am merely saying that in that particular respect, you are doing admirably."

"Mm."

"_Tsuzuki-san_!"

A shrill, panicked woman's voice instantly caught both men's attention. Tsuzuki barely had time to figure out the location of the voice before Miya appeared in the room, floating in through the wall as though it were air.

"He took him! Muraki took Hisoka!"


	4. Nagasaki File Part III

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

1. The Japanese method of crucifixion, haritsuke, is similar to the Latin method, comprised of nailing victims to a T-shaped cross (later crucifixes would use two crosspieces, to nail the victim spread-eagle). Rather than leaving the victim to die of exposure, spears were thrust into the chest until the victim bled to death.

2. I took some liberties with the lay-out of the museum; it made sense to me that they'd have a basement where they'd store some of the items not currently on display.

3. The Shinigami can't teleport or turn invisible in this universe.

4. As I said last chapter, this universe begins in May of 1998, not 1997 as in the manga. Since Hisoka would have been thirteen in the spring of 1994, it's been four years, not three, since his encounter with Muraki, and Hisoka is seventeen, not sixteen.

5. Eria suggested that I adjust Tsuzuki's incantation for summoning Shiki depending on if he wants them to appear in their human or animal forms. The idea is that a Shiki can be summoned in human form and then transform into their animal form, adjusting their size for their location.

6. I'm using the Rurouni Kenshin version of the zanbatou as the name for Suzaku's weapon, even though real zanbatou probably didn't look like the weapons Suzaku and Sanosuke use.

7. Tetara is based off the demon Lix Tetrax from the Testament of Solomon. The summoning chant is based off the passages in said Testament.

8. I decided to make Seiryuu a woman in order to even out the gender/power dynamics of Yami no Matsuei, and for some story and thematic reasons later on.

I apologize for the very long wait; there's been a lot going on. I also apologize for the lack of quality of this chapter; action scenes are not my forte. Hopefully it isn't too awful.

* * *

Nagasaki File - Part III

* * *

The first sensation Hisoka felt was the dull but stubbornly present ache next to his spine, bringing with it awareness of the clothes that were sticking to his back, the blood acting as an adhesive.

The next was something sharp holding his wrists together just above his line of sight; as he barely lifted his head he saw that it was barbed wire, and it was wound around just above the crosspiece of a decrepit crucifix. His peripheral vision made out another like it not far from his left, and in conjunction with his memory told him he was in the basement of the Twenty-Six Martyrs Museum.

"I know this isn't the correct way to crucify someone, but I'm not anticipating having the time to go about things properly. Besides, I rather like this way better."

The third, the one beginning to block out all the others, was cold fingers burrowing their way under his shirt and pressing into his skin.

"It's lovely to see you again, my dear poppet. I didn't know they let sick children be Shinigami."

Instinctively Hisoka jerked and instantly he regretted it; a barb punctured his wrist, creating a fresh bead of blood. A hand drew itself almost gracefully out from underneath Hisoka's shirt to press a finger against the new wound; the fingertip lazily wandered around Hisoka's wrist, smearing the blood on his skin like fingerpaint on paper.

"Still quite jumpy, I see. You look thinner, though. I wasn't able to do _this _before." The hand still underneath the shirt climbed up Hisoka's torso, fingers landing on his ribs as if they were steps in a staircase. It paused for a moment before splaying directly over Hisoka's heart; suddenly Hisoka was aware of how fast his heartbeat was. "Ah…this is quite comforting in its familiarity."

"Who are you?" Hisoka managed to squeeze out of the brick that had once been his throat.

"I'm the man on the other side of the door, poppet…" the free hand descended on Hisoka's head; Hisoka felt a damp spot, a bloody fingerprint, beginning to form on his forehead, "…waiting with the key."

Hisoka yelped; the hand on his head suddenly shot down to his pelvis and yanked him back, pulling him flush against another body. His stomach rioted, threatening to toss up anything that was left inside it, as fingers leisurely crawled down his leg, turned to grab his inner thigh, and jerked back up again.

"Would you like me to unlock the door, poppet?" Teeth bit at Hisoka's ear; Hisoka almost felt the marks left. "You'd like to remember, wouldn't you?"

Now words could not possibly hope to escape Hisoka's throat. He seemed to have forgotten what words were, that "stop it" and "let go of me" were not figments of his imagination; nothing existed except the iciness seemingly trying to seep into his body through his pores.

"It's been a few years…four this passing April, if I recall correctly…but you stick out in my memory as very special, poppet. Would you like to know why?"

The hand came up again, palm covering Hisoka's eyes and fingers on his forehead. Hisoka realized he was beginning to burn up, even leaving aside a comparison with how cold his assailant's hand was.

"You were the only one to never say "no"."

* * *

"He said to go to a place that has significance for all three of us…you, me, and him," Miya had said, and it didn't take long for Tsuzuki to figure out where she was talking about. Just outside the church grounds was too inconvenient a place to take a hostage, and he'd never spent time in the May Hotel, leaving the Twenty-Six Martyrs Museum as the only possible place. Worrying to Tsuzuki was that the second and third murder locations, and the location of the attempt at a fourth, all seemed to be a direct message from Muraki to him. The only indication of his family's religion he'd left on earth was his working relationship with Father Hakuro, and that was relatively recent, so either Muraki had been insanely lucky in choosing his locations, or he'd done a frightening amount of research.

Not that it'd be _impossible_; Tsuzuki was pretty sure that the circumstances of his mother's death had been recorded, but to find that out Muraki would have to know that he'd been raised in Ageo…perhaps he'd had some dealings with the hospital Tsuzuki had died in, and backtracked from there? The name "Muraki" seemed familiar…

Tsuzuki firmly put an end to such ponderings. The museum doors, left slightly ajar after Muraki picked the lock, were in front of him, and rescuing Hisoka deserved all of his concentration. Though he hadn't a scrap of Empathic ability, one didn't make it seventy-two years as a Shinigami without being able to size up an opponent. A sorcerer strong enough to create zombies, and pragmatic enough to keep conventional weapons in his arsenal, was going to be a formidable enemy.

All his preparedness, however, didn't stop the knot forming in his gut. No matter how many times he'd gotten into a similar predicament, and it had been more than once, he'd never been able to mitigate his fear for his partner's safety. And now Hisoka was an especial cause for concern; between his illness and the stress of using the Reibaku and the wound Miya said he'd suffered and whatever Muraki was putting him through now…

Tsuzuki tried not to look at the Pieta wood carving as he passed it, heading for the next open door…Muraki must have somehow proofed the building that alarms were not going off. The door led to another one, which led to yet another, marked "Basement" and opening up to a staircase. The narrow passageway was lit, but the atmosphere grew darker as Tsuzuki descended the stairs; he could only make out dim lightbulbs as the basement's poor attempt at luminaries upon reaching the last step.

The basement, unsurprisingly, wasn't crowded. Most Catholic artifacts had long been destroyed; only the most decrepit of the survivors would have been left out of the exhibits. The lack of obstructions to his view made spotting Hisoka easy, and the knots in his stomach, as well as the rest of it, seemed to turn upside-down.

He fought the urge to sprint to Hisoka, knowing that reckless targets were easy ones. He tried to cross the room equal parts swift and cautious; to his serendipitous astonishment no booby traps lay between him and his partner.

Upon reaching Hisoka, he almost wished for such a distraction.

"Hisoka? Can you answer me?"

Hyperventilation replaced the response Hisoka would have given, if he'd been in any state to speak. He was doubled over as far as the wire would let him be, barbs stuck determinedly in his wrists, stemming a blood flow but painful to look at, let alone experience.

Hisoka yelped, nearly screamed, when Tsuzuki wrapped an arm around his stomach. Tsuzuki grimaced but didn't let go; he could tell that without his support Hisoka would collapse in a trembling heap once freed. With his other hand he tried to untwist the soft wire without pricking his own fingers on the barbs or pressing them deeper into Hisoka's wrists. His instinct proved correct; when he finally wrangled Hisoka out of the barbed wire his knees gave out, and the only thing keeping him from crumpling to the floor was Tsuzuki's arm.

"Quite the deadweight, isn't he?"

Tsuzuki turned his head, his eyes narrowing. Muraki stood several meters away from them, regarding them as nonchalantly as if they were birds in a park.

"The years didn't change him much."

"What do you want with us?" Tsuzuki spat, trying to plant Hisoka on his feet as he turned around.

"The little Kurosaki boy I have no more business with. No more _pressing_ business, anyway." The grin Muraki gave, and the use of Hisoka's family name, sent a creeping feeling up Tsuzuki's spine. "As for what I want with you…well I'm afraid there's no point in the telling."

"I suppose you've got down here sealed off."

"Your instincts astound, Tsuzuki-san. There is indeed a one-way shield set up down here that only I am able to manipulate. It will take an exceptionally powerful force to break it."

Taimo, then; she wasn't called "The Spell-Breaker" for nothing, and Suzaku to cover her. And yet…Tsuzuki narrowed his eyes. For some reason the plan felt like an underestimation of Muraki's prowess. A sort of strong, evil aura seemed to surround him, a silent warning of invisible powers.

Keeping his eyes trained on Muraki, Tsuzuki twisted his body and gently lowered Hisoka to the floor, leaning him against the cross he had just been freed from. Hisoka slumped, but only slightly, once Tsuzuki took his hands away.

"I'm getting you out of here as soon as possible," Tsuzuki said, quietly but loud enough for Hisoka to hear him.

"_Don't touch his blood!_"

Tsuzuki balked mid-step, only just resisting the urge to look back.

"Don't touch his blood," Hisoka repeated, quietly, frantically. "He's…he's…"

After a second the implications of Hisoka's warning slammed into Tsuzuki's brain, tightening the knot in his gut and twisting it around his other internal organs.

"No sign of drug use," Konoe had said. "No hospital stays…"

That Hisoka shared the same fate as Aimi and Yuuki and dozens of women he'd brought in over the years had been an idea floating in the back of Tsuzuki's head, asking to be acknowledged and being refused each time. Of the mixture of emotions Hisoka had sensed in Tsuzuki upon meeting him, the rage spiked so suddenly and so strongly that it almost covered up the guilt rising alongside it.

"I bow to you and beseech you, the six who protect me. The vermillion swordswoman, queen of the south; the spell-breaker, clandestine guardian of Gensoukai…appear before me, Suzaku, Taimo!"

A ripping sound cut through the air just before a blast of light assaulted Hisoka's eyes. When he was able to open them white circles danced in front of a black background, leaving him able only to hear Tsuzuki's quiet commands.

"Taimo, there's a shield preventing us from leaving; I need you to try to break it. Suzaku, I need you to at least incapacitate that man."

"On it," one of them replied.

"He's a sorcerer, so be careful."

Full color and form were returning to Hisoka's vision; he had begun to make out the shapes of two women standing on either side of Tsuzuki when they both took off; one towards the entrance, the other towards Muraki.

"Kouryuu, appear!"

Suzaku balked at the flash of light and gust of wind that suddenly burst forth from the ground just before her feet; she stumbled backwards as a man emerged from the floor. In a second Suzaku's human form had been replaced by a bird-shaped inferno; the second afterwards her adversary had gone from man to hydra.

"Shit," Tsuzuki growled, but Hisoka could barely hear him over the animal shrieks from Suzaku and Kouryuu; nor could he hear Taimo's shout that the barriers were proving difficult to break down. All he could pay attention to was the hydra attempting to wrap itself around the neck of the phoenix, and the silhouette of Muraki half-disappearing into the shadows.

"Creator of the whirlwind, starter of fires, servant of the Great One. From the tip of the horn of the moon I summon you. Baratara shiararu merukaru…arise, Tetara!"

Hisoka knew what evil felt like. Unlike many of the other emotions, it had no image, only the simultaneous sensations of being weightless and being crushed, a sudden chill brought on by no temperature change, a black hole sitting squarely in his intestines that sucked his guts up into his throat. He felt it from Moriko, from Muraki, from his parents, and he felt it now, stronger than any singular instance before and perhaps stronger than all three combined.

Tsuzuki's voice just barely broke into the dread that had replaced every other emotion in Hisoka's mind: "What the hell is _that_?"

Tetara was a wastrel, her ill-fitting clothes revealing a frame twice as emaciated as Hisoka's. Stringy white hair was partly bound up in a parody of a style; the rest seemed to be hanging onto her head by force of sheer will. Her eyes held a strange but perfect combination of watery and malicious, and they were focused on Muraki.

"I'm not one of those piddling Shikigami that you can call whenever you want."

"You want something from me, then I'll need something from you," Muraki answered smoothly, swiping his hand through the air towards where Tsuzuki stood, just out of earshot.

"Oh, so that's the one you want to use? Tougher than you thought, is he?"

"Tsuzuki…" Hisoka tried to call, his coarse voice hidden well below Suzaku's continued battle with Kouryuu. He couldn't hear what Tetara and Muraki were saying but he knew his partner was the topic; Tsuzuki's image pranced across both their minds. "Get out of the way-!" His wrists cried out in protest as he set his hands on the floor, to try to drag himself towards Tsuzuki; the healing they managed to procure was immediately undone.

"Go for the little one," Muraki said, straddling the line between a suggestion and a command. He swept his arm out in front of him again, but this time a shrieking sound filled the air with the movement, followed by a thud as Suzaku was slammed back against the newest invisible wall Muraki had set up. Taimo whirled around at the sound; Muraki flicked his hand in her direction and she smashed against another new barrier.

"Tsuzuki!"

Tsuzuki's gaze had gone from Suzaku to Taimo and now to Hisoka, who had finally mustered up the energy to scream. From the corner of his eye he saw Tetara finish creating a fiery tornado between her hands just before releasing it towards them. It flew down the path created by Muraki's barriers at cheetah speed; Tsuzuki barely had time to register who the intended target was, and then to rush himself between it and Hisoka.

Hisoka snapped in and out of awareness in the same second; before the world went dark there was a column of fire bearing down on him, and after it lit up again he was flat on his back, looking up at Tsuzuki's agonized face, the smell of burning cloth and flesh assaulting his sense of smell. Several different shades of panic left him paralyzed as Tsuzuki lifted one hand, the other one shaking with the effort to hold him up, and muttered something. A fuda materialized in his hand, and a translucent green bubble suddenly appeared over them with a grating shriek.

"That is my most powerful barrier," Tsuzuki said, barely. "Nothing can get in or out of it for as long as it lasts." As if to compound the point, another whirlwind of fire slammed against the bubble, creating only an impact tremor before dissipating. The resulting shockwave, however, threw Tsuzuki off-balance, and Hisoka sat up just in time for Tsuzuki to collapse onto his legs. "_Dammit_."

Hisoka had seen third-degree burns before, in books, and the scorching wound on Tsuzuki's back seemed to surpass the images at least twofold. He could tell that Tsuzuki's healing abilities were setting to work on the injury, but nowhere near fast enough; at this rate it would take hours for Tsuzuki to even be able to stand, and even if the shield lasted that long…

The barrier shuddered again, and so did Tsuzuki. Hisoka looked up as an ominous cracking sound filled his ears; a spider-web had appeared where another cyclone of flame had collided with the shield.

"Tsuzuki…" The sudden stillness of the man draped across his legs reached into Hisoka's chest and squeezed his heart, momentarily stopping it. "Tsuzuki, wake up." It freed itself in double-time, delivering a rush of blood to Hisoka's head that nearly sent him backwards. "_Please_ wake up." His panicked half-thoughts tripled instantly and collided with each other, bringing forth every useless idea and memory in his head and discarding them almost immediately until _"I have six Shiki contracted to me"_ and _"Synchronization is the process of a soul leaving its body to go into the soul of another…" _ran past each other.

The lesson on Shikigami included the fact that contracts were attached to a soul. That a visitor might be able to find and activate a contract was a logical crapshoot.

The last thing Hisoka saw before his body, now void of a soul, hit the floor in freefall was the vein-like cracks in the barrier deepening.

* * *

"All right, all right…Shikigami."

_mouth full of dirt crying makes my nose itch my eyes are sticky why mom why my mom why the baby "just get out of here god damn you! go die and rot!" mom my heart hurts mommy I'm so sorry I'm so scared its raining rocks I want to see my mom where are you taking her "hey…what's the matter, bouya?" "I killed my mommy." "I am sure you did not I think I'd like to take you back to Gensoukai with me." Ruka stay away Ruka you'll die too Ruka it's my fault that mom and the baby "you're my brother you have to stay with me!"_

A single thought, a lame attempt at finding a contract for Shikigami he had never met and whose names he did not know, pulled Hisoka into a memory that time would not allow to stay coherent and sadness would not allow to rest. Hisoka desperately tried to extricate himself from within it; one of the girls in the memory was Suzaku and so it could be of absolutely no help; Suzaku was already there and that other girl, that sister, she wouldn't let him go…

"A _Shiki_!"

He was almost pushed back into the same memory a little further down the chronological line; he saw Suzaku take two sets of little hands in hers before he finally managed to escape from it. His Empathy pulled him towards other memories, to a different place entirely. He saw Suzaku there again, laughing, teasing, eating with, sitting quietly with Tsuzuki held tightly in her arms; Taimo as well, before her two winged creatures goofing around with Tsuzuki, trying to get her to laugh.

Hisoka sought after more memories of the pair, trying to track down a contract with either of them; it brought him to a vision of a red-haired girl to whom the pair were really employed. He turned away in frustration, but the thought of seeking out a contract instead of just a Shikigami had finally taken root, and Hisoka was brought face-to-face with a Shiki he didn't recognize; a tall, powerful, arresting woman with long blue hair. He chased after the thought of her, plowing through the memories of _… _until he nearly ran into the limits of Tsuzuki's soul, where the words of the contract were inscribed. Hisoka scanned one before recognizing it as the incantation for an appearance in animal form; his gaze dropped down to the second line and he spoke the words in time with comprehending them."I bow to you and beseech you, the six who protect me. The azure imperial consort, queen of the east…appear before me, Seiryuu!"

Hisoka turned immediately and relaxed his intention to stay outside of his body. His silver cord yanked him back as it automatically retracted, dragging him through ninety-eight years of Tsuzuki's memories and emotions, faster than he could hope to parse them, slower than he could hope to keep them away from him.

* * *

"Tsuzuki?"

Tsuzuki awoke to a firm hand on his shoulder. A sweep of braided blue hair in front of his face, folding haphazardly onto Hisoka's unconscious form, told him who had roused him.

"Seiryuu? How…?"

"I don't know either. Are you all right?" Seiryuu glanced down Tsuzuki's back, surveying the not even half-healed wound and utterly burnt fabric.

"Been better."

"What do you want me to do?"

"There's a demon." Tsuzuki managed to lift his hand and gesture backwards. "Suzaku's fighting another Shiki, and Taimo's trying to break us out of here. Sorcerer trapped us here; he summoned the Shiki and the demon."

"I see." Seiryuu glanced around at the bubble protecting them from more fiery blasts. "If you break this barrier, I can transform. Set it back up once I do."

Still clutched in one hand was the fuda that had brought forth the shield. Tsuzuki stretched it taut between his thumb and fourth finger, and punctured it with his index finger. The fuda and barrier flickered out of corporeal existence, and the gust of air created by Seiryuu's self-controlled transformation into a dragon sent Tsuzuki and Hisoka sliding back across the cement floor, into the wall.

Tsuzuki heard a smashing sound to his left; Taimo had broken through the impromptu and therefore weaker wall separating her from the interior of the basement. She sprinted towards Tsuzuki and Hisoka; Seiryuu released a geyser and cut off a stream of fire Tetara shot in Taimo's direction, before releasing her own torrent of water in the demon's direction.

"Him first, move him away first," Tsuzuki said as Taimo approached, pushing himself off of where."I almost have it," Taimo said as she made to do as bade, taking Hisoka by the upper arms. "I just need a few more minutes…"

"Break it down and get him out before you come back for me," Tsuzuki said, struggling into sitting up. "I have to make sure Suzaku and Seiryuu make it out all right…"

As if on cue Suzaku's beak clamped around Kouryuu's neck, and she slammed him against one of the walls of their own cage. The barrier shattered and disintegrated as Kouryuu fell to the ground, twitching and unconscious. A portal, presumably returning to Gensoukai, immediately opened beneath Kouryuu and swallowed him up.

"Thanks, Taimo," Tsuzuki said. Taimo made an acknowledging noise as she replaced her hand, which had brought up to aim a counter-spell at the cage, on Hisoka's arm.

Suzaku released a high-pitched shriek and flew towards Tetara, distracting her from Seiryuu's blast of water. Tetara slammed back against the far wall and just barely dodged a fireball from Suzaku. Tsuzuki noticed that the wall took no damage; Muraki must have set up a protective charm…

Muraki had disappeared. Tsuzuki's gaze darted around the room, but to no avail. Muraki _had_ mentioned that only he could control the unbroken shields; he had probably opened Kouryuu's return portal, and now had taken himself away from the battle…

"Taimo!" Her head snapped up; she had already dragged Hisoka across the room, towards the stairwell. "Be careful when you get upstairs! That sorcerer might be up there!"

Taimo opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by triplet animalistic screams. Tetara had released two fireballs at Suzaku and Seiryuu simultaneously. Seiryuu immediately sent back a gush of water to extinguish, and Suzaku a stream of flame to counteract, but a second too late; she was forced back and slammed into a stack of dilapidated crucifixes. Tetara surged forward, readying another cyclone of fire. Behind her Seiryuu followed, gathering up energy for another water attack.

Tsuzuki panicked before anything else. A breathless incantation summoned a fuda bearing electricity; as Seiryuu let fly her attack Tsuzuki tossed it in the water's direction. The geyser crackled with added lightning as it shot towards and landed squarely on Tetara's back.

The noise could only be described as unholy. Suzaku returned to her human form to cover her ears; Seiryuu, now seeing that there was no reason to remain a dragon, transformed similarly. Tsuzuki turned his face away as Tetara's agonized screams suddenly cut off; her hair and skull had disappeared first into smoke and next into nothingness, and now the rest of her body was following.

Taimo's heart skipped a beat as the last counter-spell worked its magic and the barrier finally smashed apart. She had never seen a soul being emptied out but she knew that was exactly what was happening, and a morbid curiosity, born of the abundance of betrayals during the war, urged her to finally witness it. She turned her head, but the sight of her employer's partner stopped her; Hisoka had woken up only to curl into a tight ball, his hands fisted in his hair, his eyes leaking tears utterly effortlessly. Duty won out over the macabre.

"Seiryuu! Suzaku!" Taimo called, again putting her hands to Hisoka's upper arms; Seiryuu tore her eyes away from the destruction instantly. "Get Tsuzuki and take him upstairs!" Taimo hoisted Hisoka up so that he leaned limply against her; it was easier than she had anticipated.

Suzaku had already picked herself up and gone to Tsuzuki; as Seiryuu rushed over to join them Taimo clambered up the stairs, keeping a tight grip on the barely-conscious Hisoka. The room behind her had gone unnervingly silent, the only sounds she could catch being Seiryuu and Suzaku's footsteps.

Tsuzuki's warning made her not want to linger in the museum proper, and luckily the door was still ajar. Day was giving way to sunset when she stepped outside, and while this was normally her favorite time of day, the lengthening shadows made detecting others more difficult, especially when the other was a sorcerer whose full prowess was unknown. She remained stiff, like a guard dog sensing an intruder, until those she had left behind finally caught up with her.

"Well…I wasn't expecting _that_ to happen today," Suzaku said, after there was a lull in movement for a handful of seconds.

"Sorry, guys," Tsuzuki ground out. He leaned against Seiryuu for support, not quite as heavily as Hisoka against Taimo, but were she to move away from him he also would fall to the ground.

"Hey, that's what we're here for," Suzaku said reassuringly. "But regardless, all in favor of getting the hell out of here?"

No one waited for the inevitably unanimous response. Taimo, and Seiryuu, tossed one last worried glance back at the museum, but it remained as inactive as when they had finally escaped it, there now being, literally, not a soul left inside.


	5. Nagasaki File - Aftermath

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Notes:**

"AMA" means "against medical advice".

The description of the progression of Hisoka's disease was based on notes that I took long ago, and I have lost the original source. I tried to adjust for new information that I researched, but if there is wrong information here, please let me know and I will fix it.

I have cried so hard that I managed to burst the blood vessels under my eyes (I was watching _Schindler's List_; I can't really handle movies about the Holocaust). To give a visual, it looks like a large cluster of red freckles between your lower eyelid and your cheek bone.

In this universe, Shikigami are only half-compatible with humans, in that full-blooded Shikigami can breed with humans, but they are immune to the bacteria and viruses that affect humans. (Half-Shiki/Half-humans are not immune, though.) This will be discussed later on when we get to more Shiki-centered plots. Kamera-sama will be introduced later on, too.

* * *

Nagasaki File - Aftermath

* * *

"Up already?"

"Yeah, there's really no reason for me to take up a bed." Tsuzuki stretched; his back still felt slightly crispy, but he indeed had a point that a hospital stay was superfluous. The stress of battle being gone had allowed him to speed up the healing process even while his Shiki bore him and Hisoka to the nearest portal to Meifu, and an overnight visit to the Infirmary only helped.

"Hazama-sensei is allowing that?" Tatsumi queried further, looking slightly amused and nonplussed. The Infirmary doctor wasn't known for a laissez-faire attitude towards her patients.

"I was, ah, planning on not asking her permission."

Tatsumi raised his eyebrows; Tsuzuki pretended to look sheepishly chastised.

"Well, unfortunately, Tsuzuki, you're going to have to stay put for a little while longer. I came over to get the record on what exactly occurred yesterday."

"You couldn't wait for my report?" Tsuzuki asked, eyeing the clipboard Tatsumi held against his stomach.

"While we may be close to immortal, I didn't fancy waiting two weeks for a wrinkled piece of paper half-written in white-out."

Tsuzuki snorted. He didn't personally think his notoriety for unprofessional reports was warranted, but his renowned distaste for them certainly was, and he might as well let Tatsumi do the write-up for him.

"Pull up a chair." Tsuzuki flopped back down onto the bed, propping up the pillows and leaning against them, as Tatsumi did as suggested.

"Your Shiki told us most of what happened during the actual battle," Tatsumi said.

"Did they make it back to Gensoukai all right?" Tsuzuki interrupted anxiously.

"Yes. Kannuki saw them off."

"That's good."

"Mm. So, can you tell me what led up to that battle? I understand you were merely looking for a zombie."

"Yeah. Hisoka-…Kurosaki, my new partner, and I went to St. Michael's to ask Father Hakuro if he saw anything. He told us that he saw Himura-san…the zombie…with a man he didn't know. I happened to run into that man a little later on, when Hisoka and I split up."

"Do you know who he is?"

"Muraki Kazutaka. He did turn out to be the person who zombified Himura-san."

"In addition to setting up impenetrable shields and summoning both a Shiki and a demon. Sounds like quite a sorcerer."

"Yeah, no kidding. And while I was with him, he sent Himura-san to attack Father Hakuro. Luckily Hisoka was there at the time."

"How so?"

"He used Reibaku on Himura-san, and it worked."

Tatsumi lifted his pen from the paper he had been shorthanding Tsuzuki's report on. "Excuse me?"

"He successfully used Reibaku."

"You're sure?"

"Yep. Saw the aftermath of it."

"Interesting." Tatsumi moved his pen over to make a note in the margin. "All right, go on…"

"Well, Father Hakuro had gotten hurt during that fight, so I took him to the school infirmary while Hisoka was supposed to take Himura-san to the portal in the maple tree. And while I was there, Muraki came back and kidnapped Hisoka. He sent Himura-san to direct me towards the Martyrs Museum and…well, if my Shiki already filled you in…"

"They said you were both badly hurt." Tatsumi set the clipboard down.

"Yeah. Hisoka worse than me."

"Seiryuu said your back was blown out. Kurosaki was hurt _worse_?"

Tsuzuki nodded reluctantly. "But apparently not too hurt to synchronize with me."

"Pardon?"

"There was a moment yesterday when I blacked out. When I woke up, Seiryuu was there. Someone had to have summoned her and that's the only way it could have happened."

"So you're telling me that your partner is spiritually powerful enough to use Reibaku _and_ synchronization in one day?"

"Within hours of each other, if that. _And_ while wounded." And deathly ill, Tsuzuki added in his thoughts.

"That's…astounding."

"You don't know the half of it," Tsuzuki said, as Tatsumi picked up his pen and jotted down another note in the margin, underneath the first one.

"So, Suzaku and Taimo told me that they were both individually trapped, and Suzaku was fighting a Shiki, when Muraki summoned that demon."

"Tetara, her name was. I think, in any case. I didn't hear it the best…"

The shift in Tsuzuki's tone brought Tatsumi's face up again. "Are you all right, Tsuzuki?"

"Fine. I'm fine."

"Are you thinking about that demon?" Tatsumi demanded, suddenly taking an almost accusatory tone.

"Well, when you kill someone, you don't really forget it."

"That someone was a demon. _Trying to kill Suzaku_ at the time, I might add."

"But she was a _materialized_ demon, Tatsumi. She won't go back to Hell, she's been _erased completely_."

"She knew the risks of materializing. If she had not been willing to take the chance, she would have stayed in Hell, or done penance and been reincarnated _safely_. For that matter, Tsuzuki, I can't imagine you did her anything but a favor. She can be born again, and this time _not_ in Hell."

"But not as _herself_. No memories, no personality…"

"Memories of torturing people? The personality of several sociopaths? You not only did her a good turn, you've rendered a vital service to the rest of creation. Sometimes…" It hadn't truly become easier to say what he was about to, after first saying it in 1948, upon his departure from their working and personal relationship, "sometimes things have to end for the sake of the greater good."

"But-"

"Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki glanced at Tatsumi. It almost felt to Tatsumi that his heart physically hurt to see the same expression as the one that had been an almost permanent fixture of Tsuzuki's face fifty years ago.

"Don't do this to yourself again."

The same half-hearted, conceding laugh. "I guess there's no point in dwelling on it, is there? What's done is done."

"Tsuzuki…"

"Thanks for the reality check, Tatsumi," Tsuzuki said, in a way that effectively shut the conversation down even as it begged to continue.

"Tsuzuki."

"Mm?" Tsuzuki stared at Tatsumi, his face turned purposely blank. Tatsumi raised his hand and opened his mouth, before recognizing the look as a wall he'd never been able to scale.

"Nev-…never mind."

"All right." Tsuzuki shifted, sliding one leg off the bed and letting his foot touch the floor. "Did you need me for anything else?"

"I, ah…no. The Shiki testimony was very thorough." Tatsumi stood a few seconds before Tsuzuki did. "You're sure you're well enough to be moving around?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I just got a little burnt up. Did the bulk of my healing when I was asleep."

"Where are you headed?"

"Thought I'd check on my partner." Tsuzuki thought about inviting Tatsumi to meet him but caught himself just in time; there was a good chance Hisoka's illness would come up.

"I hope he's recovering as quickly as you."

"Me too. He was pretty banged up."

Tsuzuki frowned. Tatsumi wanted to ask if Tsuzuki was, or scold Tsuzuki for, thinking of blaming himself for his partner's condition. But that was another conversation that had never gone anywhere, so Tatsumi settled for a quiet "I'm glad you made it out all right," to which Tsuzuki responded with an equally quiet "Thank you."

* * *

Konoe had greeted Miya when she first came through the portal to Meifu, and at her request pointed her in the direction of the Infirmary as he took her to Nakiru. She went there immediately after asking Nakiru if she could have time to decide whether or not she wanted to move on (he was used to that question, especially from people in her age group, and when they were qualified for Heaven as she obviously was, he usually just waved them out of the room). She was there, but ordered to stand back by Dr. Hazama, when three women brought Hisoka and his partner into the Infirmary, and she had fallen asleep in an unoccupied room while waiting to be allowed to see her surrogate brother. Dr. Hazama came in that morning, glaring at her for taking up a potentially needed bed, but conceding that she was now allowed to see Hisoka.

"Hey Hisokkun…I don't think this line of work is very kind to you," she said, with a very forced laugh.

"Add it to the list," Hisoka replied despondently. "At least I finally get to see what a hospital looks like."

"Mm." Miya sat at the foot of his bed, surveying the scene before her with bottom lip caught between her teeth. As much as she had wanted Hisoka in sterilized sheets and hooked up to an IV, to actually see it was not the quasi-comfort she had once imagined. "Are you feeling any…okay?"

"Better than I did when I got here."

Miya squeezed one of Hisoka's feet through the sheet Dr. Hazama had tucked securely under it. "That's good to hear, I guess. Are you okay…HIV-wise?"

"Hazama-sensei hasn't said anything about it to me, so. No news is good news, I guess."

"Mmhmm." Miya drummed her fingers against Hisoka's covered ankle. "So…what on earth _happened_? Who was that man?"

"That was him."

"You mean…? You mean the man who…gave the disease to you." Her fingers rested, allowing her to grip Hisoka's ankle.

Hisoka swallowed, causing his head to move in such a way as to confirm her words.

"What does he want with us?" Miya asked quietly. "Did I have…anything to do with this?"

"I don't think that had anything to do with us specifically. You were bait for my partner. It just…_happened _that it was you, and when I showed up he dropped you for me."

"What's he want with your partner?"

"I don't know. I couldn't probe that deeply. His soul is too dark. And he had some other thoughts that were more…overwhelming."

"What kind of thoughts?" Miya picked herself up only to set herself down again, this time near Hisoka's hip, and took one of his hands into both of hers.

"I know…_why_ I died now."

"Oh, Hisokkun." Miya lifted his hand and held it to her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

A tiny percolation of guilt transferred to Hisoka via her touch. "You knew?"

"I…pieced it together from things I overheard your mother say. I didn't want to tell you, because by that point you were so sick…"

"Don't worry about it. It turns out I was happier not knowing."

He couldn't quite hide the shake in his voice. Miya brought his hand down to the bed but still held it captive, running her thumbs against either side of the back of his hand.

"It shouldn't matter anymore," she said briskly, before Hisoka could speak again; she remembered what it meant, what would happen, when Hisoka's speaking voice took on such vibrato. "We're both dead now, and so is my mom, so it's time for us to move on."

She waited for Hisoka to speak, or nod, or give some sort of affirmative action; when it didn't come within five seconds she squeezed his hand. "Hisokkun?"

"Yeah?"

"I said it's time for us to move on. To, you know. Heaven."

Again an answer was not forthcoming. Miya ran her thumbs in circles against the back of his hand, before biting her lip and smiling wryly. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Hisoka shrugged tightly.

"'Sokkun, you _promised_," Miya drawled, poking his wrist. Several years ago she had stomped her foot and declared it wasn't fair that he got to see her mood and from there tease out what she might be thinking; she'd extracted a pinky promise, on the not-serious threat of drinking poison, that he would always be candid with her when she asked it of him.

He rolled his eyes, a method of derailment he knew wouldn't work because it never had. Silence sometimes worked better. This was not one of those times.

"Is it your partner?"

"What makes you think it's him?" Hisoka asked, trying to hide her accuracy behind a nonplussed expression.

"Well, he's the only thing I know about you being a Shinigami, so I figured I'd start there." Her wry smile from earlier reappeared, but now with a hint of amusement attached to it. "So _are _you thinking about him?" Amusement fully overtook the previous emotion. "Does 'Sokkun have a widdle _cwush_?"

"Shut up, Miya."

"How cute, 'Sokkun has a _boyfwend_," she continued undauntedly, in singsong. She hadn't realized until now that she'd grieved the loss of the ability to tease Hisoka over his romances, and he the ability to do likewise for hers, had he ever the inclination. As hard as Rui had worked to keep every human emotion and interaction out of her son's reach, Miya and her mother had tried to counter-act the effort, to varying degrees of success. She hadn't known if Hisoka would ever be the type to torment his sister-figure over her eventual lovelife. He'd spent the years they might have discovered the answer wasting away in front of her.

"He's so strange."

"What?" Miya was pulled out of the silence of her inarticulate thoughts by Hisoka's hesitantly working voice.

"Yesterday, when we were trying to escape from Muraki, I had to do something called synchronization. There are these beings called Shikigami, that you can contract to come to help you when you say an incantation, and these contracts attach to your soul. Synchronization is when a person leaves their body and goes into someone else's soul, and I had to do that yesterday. Tsuzuki was hurt, and I had to summon one of his Shikigami for him."

"So you were actually _in_ his soul?"

"Yeah. Looking for the incantation to summon a Shiki."

"What…what was it like?" Miya asked slowly, for lack of a more intelligent-sounding question.

"It was…_strange_. I tried not to look too deeply into his memories. Was kinda preoccupied at the time. But…"

"But?"

"I could tell that they were cold. Worse than my parents'. Even my mother's."

"Hisokkun, that's…that's awful."

"But here's the thing, Miya. His memories are cold, but his spirit isn't."

"Really? He didn't seem…I wouldn't have pegged him as that."

"It's just as warm as yours, or your mother's. And I don't _get it_."

"I don't either." The sad, violent history of the Kurosaki house seemed to live in the soul of each member of the family, only to become compounded by each generation's unique tragedies. Living near the Kurosaki was almost as bad, and Miya had felt some considerable measure of relief when Rui had unceremoniously dismissed her. For someone to have a worse past but a better character was shocking. "So…what does this mean for us, Hisokkun?"

Hisoka shrugged. "I don't know."

"I mean, if you're into him…"

"It's not like that."

Miya wisely, but reluctantly, did not attempt to argue. "I'm just…trying to figure out if you want to stay here."

"I am too." Hisoka dropped his head back into his pillow. "Heaven sounds great, but…"

"And staying here isn't optimal, but," Miya supplied for him, returning to stroking his hand with her thumbs. "You wanna think about this some more? Or, you know, get better first."

"I don't want to keep you here if you want to go to Heaven."

"I'm not in a rush. I can wait a little longer. And hey, Mom even told me not to hurry after her." She tried to smile again, but failed when her lips started trembling too much to tilt up. "So yeah, waiting to decide sounds good. And so does some water. Want me to ask if you can have some, too?"

"Sure." His next words were slower, heavier. "Thank you, Miya."

Hers were quick, light, but no less earnest. "Not a problem, 'Sokkun."

* * *

"Hold up a minute there, Tsuzuki-san."

"Sensei?"

"First off, you know that if you're leaving AMA, there are papers you need to sign."

"Who said I was leaving? I haven't stepped foot out of the building." Hazama Rinko raised her eyebrows at him; he did his best to look obliviously innocent. "Why, is there anything wrong with me, Sensei?"

"Plenty, but nothing I can prescribe anything for," Rinko replied, blowing her hair out of her eyes. "I would like to look at your back again, just in case, before you actually do leave, but you look like you've recovered pretty well, enough to be walking around. You're not dizzy, are you?"

"Nope."

"No changes in vision or hearing? Notice yourself walking differently? Any strange sensations?"

"No, no, and…no."

"How's your back feel?"

"Overcooked, but it doesn't hurt. I just notice that it got burned."

"Mm. You're not getting out of that final examination but I'll let you stay on your feet."

"Much obliged, Sensei. I know how it pains you to let me walk around."

She rolled her eyes, and he had to smile at the strong maternal streak that floated just below her professional, snappy healthcare provider surface.

"Was there a second off? There was a first…"

"Yes." Rinko took a step away from the door, leading Tsuzuki from it as well. "When I examined him earlier, Kurosaki-san gave me permission to share his medical concerns with you."

"He did?" She gave a quick, sharp nod. "How come?"

"I don't know. You must have left quite an impression on him, because he put you on par with his…I suppose we can call her his sister, by doing so. In any case I believe it's a good idea, since I want you to seriously reconsider the notion of continuing your partnership with him."

"All…right," Tsuzuki said, resentment at her tone creeping into his own.

"First, out of fairness, I will remind you that our immune systems are far more advanced and controllable than that of a human's, and Kurosaki-san is also taking medication, to which he is responding very well. Kurosaki-san does not feel ill every second of every day like he did when he was alive. On quiet days he probably feels normal."

"That's good."

"Indeed. But that does not change the fact that Kurosaki-san is in a very risky position. HIV destroys the immune system, so he is constantly in a fight to just stay healthy. And as a Shinigami, given the stressors and risks of the job, he could develop AIDS at any time…which could then go into remission, if he gets proper treatment. If I were to make a comparison, his health is a yo-yo in the hands of an epileptic. Do you understand all this, Tsuzuki-san?"

"Yes," Tsuzuki said quickly, not wanting to prolong what he was suspecting would be a lengthy talk.

"All right. Now, upon reviewing his file, I was able to split up the progression of his illness into five distinct stages. As a Shinigami, he could potentially experience those stages, in any order, given the circumstances of his day. In the first stage, which would most likely be a bog standard stressful day, he might feel fatigued and weak. He will probably be somewhat nauseous or just have no appetite."

"Okay." That seemed to describe Hisoka when Tsuzuki first met him.

"If he becomes more stressed, the nausea will intensify. He may also experience the pins-and-needles sensation, diarrhea, abdominal pain, fever, trembling, and some dizziness. That's Stage 2. In Stage 3, all of that will become more severe, and he'll have difficulty keeping his balance."

"Okay."

"Stage 4, which Kurosaki reached during your mission, entails hyperventilation, joint pain, and muscle cramping, which could cause more serious damage to his muscle tissue. It is my deduction that Kurosaki-san concentrates part of his healing power on hiding his KS Lesions…"

"His what?"

"KS Lesions are tumors. They're caused by a separate virus, but he probably contracted it at the same time as the HIV, and both viruses work together to destroy the immune system. As I was saying, he probably uses part of his abilities to hide them, but at this stage he'll either lose control over that, or concentrate those abilities towards other areas."

The bright red, papular markings on Hisoka's skin appeared in Tsuzuki's mind's eye. He thought bitterly that Muraki might have some dealings in their reappearance, as well.

"When Kurosaki-san died, he had a build-up of lactic acid in his muscles, which was causing premature rigor mortis. He also had mild acute pancreatitis, which temporarily stopped his body from being able to digest food. In combination with the stress on his body from the disease and the possession, and what I suspect was long-term malnutrition, he essentially starved to death."

Tsuzuki bit his lip.

"Now luckily, he died very quickly, before the pancreatitis could become severe or chronic, which means that there was no permanent scar tissue. As soon as his re-created body was animated he set to work healing his pancreas, and currently it's healthy, though of course there is a risk of recurrence. At death he also was beginning to show signs of optic neuritis, which would have blinded him, and autoimmune hepatitis, which would have destroyed his liver. It is _extremely _important that he not _get _autoimmune hepatitis, because the treatment for it involves immunosuppressants, and since he's already immunocompromised, anything else that attacks his immune system will destroy it. At that point, a _cold _could be lethal."

"I…wow." Tsuzuki couldn't think of anything to say. Words like "horrible" and "awful" and "I'm going to kill that fucking bastard" all felt inadequate.

"All this," Dr. Hazama continued, "is just what happened to him during his lifetime. There's a whole host of other things that he's susceptible to if his immune system deteriorates. Pneumonia, brain disease, esophageal infection, lymphoma, TB, septicemia…hell, anything. We almost never hear of a Shinigami getting these things because our immune systems pretty much kill them on sight, but for Kurosaki-san they are real threats, especially if he's under a high amount of stress."

"In other words, if he remains as a Shinigami."

"I can't make Kurosaki-san's decisions for him. If I could, I wouldn't even let him near the building." She gave a smile, an attempt at mirth, before sighing. "In all seriousness, Tsuzuki-san, I've advised him against pursuing this line of work. I'm not even sure why he decided to take the job in the first place. He's qualified for Heaven, and honestly it would probably be better for him to pass on. He'd be healthy there. And probably a good deal happier."

Tsuzuki made a noise acknowledging that she had spoken but giving no opinion on her words. Dr. Hazama glanced at the far wall and the clock that hung there.

"Someone else was injured on the job; I should be checking on them now. You can go in and visit with Kurosaki-san; Himura-san is still there, but as long as you don't work him up you can both stay there."

"I was actually just stepping out to get some water," a female voice said, and they turned their heads to see Miya exiting Hisoka's room.

"I'll show you where the water cooler is, Himura-san; it's on my way," Rinko said.

"Thank you, Hazama-sensei. Oh, and he's not tired out yet," she said, addressing Tsuzuki as well now. "Probably more restless than anything else, actually."

"Well, he's not going anywhere for awhile," Rinko said firmly.

"Oh yeah, don't worry…he's not planning on it," Miya said, her words and their volume trailing off as they came out of her mouth. "Um, are you…Tsuzuki-san?"

"That'd be me, yeah."

"May I talk to you for a moment before you go in to see him?"

"Oh, of course," Tsuzuki said, stepping to the side. Dr. Hazama stepped a few paces away, busying herself with mentally reciting the ailments of all the patients that had checked in today and making notes on what to do for whom.

"Thank you," Miya said, coming closer to Tsuzuki. "I…well, first I want to thank you for getting Hisoka away from that man."

"I'll direct that to my Shikigami; they did most of the work," Tsuzuki said, smiling weakly.

Miya made an acknowledging noise and bobbed her head. "And I just wanted to tell you that…I don't know how much you know, but Hisoka can…_tell _about people."

"I know that he knows what people feel."

"It's more than that, though…Hisoka _knows_ people. Really understands them. He can tell who is a good person and who isn't. Who he can and can't trust. And you…_you _he feels like he can trust. And, you know, he doesn't have a lot of experience with that…and I don't know how long we'll be staying in Meifu, but while we're here, if you could…just, please don't give him a reason to _not_ trust you anymore."

Tsuzuki was known in Shokan-ka for his promises: kept, of which there were many; broken, of which there were a sizeable few, and about which there was not much talk allowed. No one had ever truly warned him against big, vague promises, the kind he was so fond of making…no one except himself, halfheartedly, with no real expectation that the advice was going to be followed.

"I won't."

Miya chewed on her lip and looked down, embarrassed now that her planned speech was over. "Thank you. I'll, um…let you go see him now." She gave a quick bow and stepped away hurriedly, keeping her red face turned away from Tsuzuki.

Dr. Hazama sent Tsuzuki a look, an expression both scolding and begging that he heed whatever Miya had said to him. Tsuzuki took it, pressed it into his heart, and turned, trying to prepare himself for what the next few steps into Hisoka's room would present to him.

The preparation partially worked. He had never quite gotten used to the sight of IVs and stark white sheets and how small a person looks attached to both of them, but he was able to keep his sudden feelings of protectiveness and comfort and self-loathing for letting this happen mostly inside himself.

"Hey."

"Hi," Hisoka returned despondently.

"...Dumb question, how are you feeling?" Tsuzuki said, after a long moment of holding his breath.

"Like shit," Hisoka mumbled.

"...Understandable." Tsuzuki nervously edged his way forward, feeling strange about being pleased that Hisoka could swear in front of him. The visitor's chair sat some feet away from the bed, and Tsuzuki tried not to make a great show of dragging it forward so he could sit near Hisoka.

"What about you?"

"Huh? Oh, me? I'm fine. Thanks in no small part to you." Tsuzuki tried to smile encouragingly; Hisoka had given him a look that was equal parts blank and unbelieving. "That was really, really impressive, what you did yesterday. First to use the Reibaku, and then to synchronize with me and summon Seiryuu. Especially—" Tsuzuki paused, wondering how insensitive it would be to finish his sentence with "because you were so injured" or "because you're so ill". "That's not something just anyone can do," he opted for instead, recovering almost quickly enough to avoid awkwardness.

Hisoka made a politely dismissive noise.

"No, I'm serious," Tsuzuki said, scooting his chair even closer to the bed. "I definitely couldn't do that when I started working as a Shinigami. I don't even know if I could do that _now_."

Hisoka was actually pretty sure that Tsuzuki could, and could potentially do more, if careening through Tsuzuki's memories had given him any idea.

"In any case, Hisoka, I think we have you to thank for us getting out of there alive," Tsuzuki continued after Hisoka did not verbalize his thoughts. "Well, figuratively speaking," he added with a small laugh. He tried to smile genuinely; Hisoka seemed interested in his words, at least, and he wanted to keep up this momentum. "I might not even have to show you how to use fuda, if you're this powerful now."

"Or if I don't stay on as your partner."

Despite Dr. Hazama's words earlier, Konoe's less than encouraging phone conversation the previous day, and the lingering thoughts in the back of his own mind, Tsuzuki was still brought up short by Hisoka's words. "Or...that too, yes," he said, trying to sound the right combination of nonchalant and disappointed at the prospect. "Are you thinking of quitting?"

Hisoka shrugged, very tightly. "Everyone seems to think it's a good idea."

"Who's everyone?"

"Miya. Hazama-sensei. Kachou."

Tsuzuki held his breath, waiting for Hisoka to name him, and released it once Hisoka has lapsed into his own conflicted silence. "Well, on every conceivable level, Heaven is probably preferable to living in all other dimensions. But lots of people put it off for years. Decades. Maybe centuries, but I've never heard of it if they have." He often wondered if he'd be the first to do so. "I...was told once that it doesn't reflect badly on a person to not choose to go to Heaven immediately. If that's what you're worried about."

Hisoka made a noncommittal noise. Tsuzuki shifted, his chair suddenly becoming the most uncomfortable thing in all of Meifu.

"Well, it's up to you," Tsuzuki finally said. "I'm perfectly happy to have you stay on as my partner, but if you want to move on I won't get in your way."

Hisoka tried to discern which part of his sentence Tsuzuki meant more, and was somewhat surprised to see the genuineness lay in the first half.

"And...and you know, if you do die on the job, you'll be immediately passed into Heaven anyway," Tsuzuki said. "So long as it isn't a suicide. You know that?"

"I know."

"So there's that. Heaven's not going anywhere. So...just do whatever it is you want to do more right now."

More silence. Tsuzuki, to amuse himself, thought that if he hadn't spent the day with Hisoka yesterday he would think the boy was a mute. The mild amusement quickly turned to hot guilt and sadness when he remembered what Hisoka had grown up with, and conjectured that silence probably saved him from even more pain that what he'd gotten.

His wishy-washiness suddenly made him sick. Heaven was something Hisoka _needed_. He had no guilt to work through, nothing that _should_ make him turn down Heaven in favor of this job that would keep him constantly ill and despairing. He ought to be encouraging Hisoka to choose a place where he wouldn't be sick and needn't be sad.

"Hisoka?"

"Mm?"

"I..." Something inside Tsuzuki—his resolve, or his ability to empathize with anyone who would turn down Heaven for a Shinigami job no matter the reason, or something else and undefined—let him down, and he immediately moved to not let it fail him completely. "Can I ask something?"

"Sure."

"Why did you..." Too personal-sounding. "What was your reason for choosing to become a Shinigami?"

Hisoka held his breath for a moment. Skirting the topic with Miya earlier had flipped his stomach partway, and the thought of it now threatened to turn it over completely. Tsuzuki's gaze drifted downward, towards the mattress, and Hisoka realized his hand had begun shaking. He shoved it under the thin white sheet that covered him, making the IV line jerk and wave in the air.

"When Miya and I were little kids, we made a promise that we'd go to Heaven together," Hisoka said, opting for quick and at least partially honest. "I didn't want to be in Heaven with Miya's mother without Miya, so I figured I'd honor the promise and stay and wait for her."

"But you could have been a civilian and done that," Tsuzuki said, without thinking that maybe he ought to take Hisoka at his word. "Were you planning on visiting her at some point?" Shinigami, unlike the civil population of Meifu, were allowed unlimited access to Uchuu.

Hisoka considered opting for partial truth again, but the words stuck in his brain before they could stick in his throat. Giving permission for Dr. Hazama to tell Tsuzuki about his medical history had been an impulsive move; it had fallen out of his mouth before he could really think about it, and he'd been too proud and nervous and, really, unsure if it was better to rescind the decision, even when Dr. Hazama asked him twice if he was certain he wanted Tsuzuki to know.

He realized he had already waited too long to say "yes" and have Tsuzuki believe him, and that even if he had spoken several seconds ago Tsuzuki still probably wouldn't have.

"I guess what I'm asking is if your reason for staying is, at this point, stronger than your reason for moving on."

He'd wanted to know, and now he did. Muraki had been kind enough to provide the answers to questions that had consumed him ever since he realized that he was sick and that no one was going to try to make him better. And what reason, really, did he have to stay in Meifu now?

He inhaled deeply, fixed himself to hold his head up, and attempted to say _"No, my business is finished here, and I'm going to move on as soon as possible."_

"I wanted to find out why I died."

"...You didn't know?" Tsuzuki asked, gently.

"I knew what I had. Have," Hisoka corrected. His mouth was moving without his control, he decided. "And I...figured out how. What I didn't know was _why_."

Tsuzuki caught his words, turning them into an inhalation. There was really no use in pretending that he thought Hisoka had been infected by anything other than sex with Muraki, or that the encounter had even approached being consensual. "There's no rational reason for why things like that happen," he said gently.

"No, there was a reason," Hisoka said, his voice tight. Tsuzuki gave him a quizzical look, and Hisoka's unbidden nerve started to falter. He didn't need to share this information with anyone but Miya, he told himself. This man—who had watched him vomit up his guts, who had kept him from collapsing like a ragdoll on the museum basement floor, whose soul he'd desperately careened through—this man didn't need to know.

"Moriko...was...I don't know the full story," Hisoka said quietly, hurriedly. "She was the ghost of a half-demon who wanted revenge on my family. I don't know why. I stayed out of her memories. But she had an affinity with my name, or something like that, and that's why she possessed me. And they—my parents—were afraid she would use me to destroy the family. Literally, kill them all."

Tsuzuki tilted his head slightly, his eyes asking "What's that got to do with Muraki though?" so his lips wouldn't have to. Every urge in Hisoka, except for the winning one, told him to stop talking.

"My parents...wanted Moriko out of the house. A regular exorcism wouldn't do that. She'd be free to haunt the family again. So they figured that...if they could trap her in my soul, and then I died..."

Tsuzuki's jaw dropped.

"Muraki was...sought out. They hired him to trap Moriko in my soul. And then he killed me for them, too."

Tsuzuki hadn't literally seen red in a long time, but now the entire room seemed to be tinted scarlet. It felt like bile was rising in his throat, threatening to turn into the worst curses he knew. The urge to destroy Hisoka's family utterly and horrifically flooded him.

"I know how my mother felt about me," Hisoka said quietly, now babbling only to himself. "And I knew that even if I learned to control Moriko nothing would change, but..." Hisoka's fingers dug into his sheets. "So stupid. So _fucking_ stupid."

Hisoka's small, breaking voice yanked Tsuzuki back into empathy. The violence that had welled up in him receded, replaced by terror and disgust that it had ever even been there.

"But my father…he didn't…when he was around they treated me better. I never got the sense that he wanted me dead. I never got a sense of anything from him. He was good at suppressing his feelings. I guess he thought that if I knew what they were planning…"

The rest of Hisoka's words, if there were any, disappeared into a hoarse wail that seemed to rip itself out of his throat. The thought passed through Tsuzuki's mind that he should hesitate, should give into some instinctual fear and restrain himself, but the thought was background noise as he reached out and yanked Hisoka into his arms.

Hisoka jerked, whether from the unexpected contact or from the sobs that followed the initial cry Tsuzuki didn't know, but he refused to relinquish his hold. He remembered being a child, chased away from whatever play area Ruka hadn't strong-armed their way into, and even some she had; he remembered hiding in his room until Aimi searched him out and held him, rocking him and whispering to him until his crying devolved into sniffling and then finally quietness. He never considered himself like his mother—she was too perfect in his eyes to ever be matched, least of all by himself—but now he tried to emulate her as best he could.

To his surprise Hisoka gripped his sleeve, his face dropping and then burrowing into the crook of Tsuzuki's elbow. Tsuzuki tried to push the warm feelings, compassion and comfort and sympathy, to the forefront, transferring them to Hisoka through the hands he rested on the back of Hisoka's head and along his spine. He nearly grimaced at the distinct feeling of Hisoka's vertebrae but quickly pushed that emotion away; his discomfort at Hisoka's physical state was the last thing either of them needed to feel.

Hours or seconds could have passed before Hisoka shuddered again and jerked suddenly out of Tsuzuki's grip, sitting up. His face was red, from crying and from an abnormal kind of embarrassment for him, and the ruddiness was agitated when he furiously wiped his eyes, rubbing saltwater into the already tender skin.

"Sorry," Hisoka muttered, letting his hand fall back onto the bed. There seemed to be no sign of his tears giving off, but at least the active sobbing had stopped.

"It's okay." Tsuzuki could make out that the blood vessels under Hisoka's eyes had burst, and he bit his lip. He reached out falteringly, unsure of where his hand would land or if he even should have made to touch Hisoka in the first place; he gave up trying to direct it consciously and finally it landed atop Hisoka's own hand on the bed. Silence and electricity passed between them for a few seconds before Tsuzuki spoke again. "Do you want me to go now?"

"Miya should be back any second," Hisoka muttered.

Tsuzuki wondered if that was a "yes" or a "no". Without realizing it he had begun squeezing Hisoka's hand.

"You should..." Tsuzuki said, and his tongue curled up in protest of what he was thinking. "I think you ought to..." Tsuzuki tried again, but that also felt wrong in his mouth. "It's your decision, Hisoka," he finally forced out, with much more vigor than he needed, because they processed with much less effort. "I'll...I don't know if it means much coming from me, but I'll support you whatever you choose."

Hisoka withdrew his hand from under Tsuzuki's. Tsuzuki almost despaired the smallest bit, until he heard the voice that Hisoka had sensed coming back towards the door. He stood up quickly, figuring that even if Hisoka would issue him permission to stay, Miya might want him to go.

"But..." Tsuzuki felt compelled, though not unwillingly, to say, "if you decided to stay here—stay on as my partner—that would be good. I would...I would like that, if that's what you chose."

Miya opened the door before Tsuzuki could turn his head and catch Hisoka's reaction; he voiced a generic wish for Hisoka's speedy recovery and stepped out before he could see what Miya's was either.

* * *

It felt to Tsuzuki like he had shut the door behind him for the past few days; like there was something always at his back that he hated to keep closed but felt like it was necessary to nonetheless.

He went to Gensoukai immediately after leaving the Infirmary to talk to Taimo. It had occurred to him that she had come in contact with Hisoka's blood, and she might want to get herself checked out. She had listened to him in the heavily silent way she did whenever someone babbled haltingly at her, then allowed a smile as she gently reminded him that Shikigami had been specifically designed to outclass humans when it came to immunities.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Tsuzuki."

"Completely sure?"

"Kamera-sama made us unable to be affected by human illnesses, regardless of the human form we are able to take. There is nothing to worry about."

"All right," Tsuzuki said, reluctantly. "Sorry for wasting your time..."

"Don't be," Taimo said. "It was kind of you to be so concerned for me."

"I always am," Tsuzuki replied, smiling at her but also clasping a hand on her shoulder. She had told him once that his sincerity reminded her of her former husband, before...well, before. She had later told him all about "before" and so he had taken on a special kind of protectiveness over her.

"Since we have nothing to worry about, does it matter if the rest of your team knows about your partner? Or would you rather I be circumspect?"

"Please keep it quiet. I don't want anyone who shouldn't know about it to hear. And I don't want him thinking that I go around blabbing about it."

"Understood."

"I mean, I don't know if he'll be sticking around that long, but still..."

Taimo glanced up and down his face, and Tsuzuki braced himself for her assessment.

"You know that humans cannot give Shikigami diseases," Taimo said slowly. "Suzaku told you that a long time ago." She stopped, pondering if she should ask her second question, but determined that she didn't need to. "I didn't realize this disease was that scary."

"It's pretty awful, Taimo. Hazama-sensei told me the things that could happen to him, and...it's horrible. If an illness doesn't take you out, you'll just waste away. And I know, I know that you couldn't get it from him, but...if there was the slightest chance..."

"I understand. But really, you have nothing to worry about."

Tsuzuki didn't respond for awhile. Taimo read the glum silence as easily as a children's book, but kept her own counsel until Tsuzuki spoke again. "I guess I'm not much better than anyone else."

"It's normal to fear what can hurt you. I would think that your partner is afraid of it, too."

"There's a really fine line between being afraid of _it_ and being afraid of _him_, Taimo."

"Well then, you had best make sure you don't cross it."

Taimo's tendency to strip everything down to bare bones was both a great relief and a huge frustration to Tsuzuki. Before he could rib on her for it, Suzaku passed by and noticed that he was there, and the rest of the visit was directed away from his conversation with Taimo. It lasted so late into the day that he decided to spend the night, and he slept in late—leaving the Infirmary early had taxed him more than he wanted to admit—and he stumbled into work a full two hours after the workday started.

Konoe made no mention of it, only expressing surprise that Tsuzuki had not requested injury leave, especially since Hisoka was still in the Infirmary.

It stayed quiet for the next three days. Being a Shinigami was a constant back-and-forth between having nothing to do and being insanely busy, and Tsuzuki wondered if the universe had noted the case he'd just been on and decided to grant him a break. To fill up the time on the third day he went back to St. Michael's, to tell Father Hakuro how the case had turned out. The priest had gotten his wound properly treated and set in a sling, and over the course of discussing the injury Tsuzuki wound up telling Father Hakuro about his fears for Taimo.

"If your Shiki have it on good authority from someone like Kamera-sama that they have nothing to worry about, then it's useless to fret over it," Father Hakuro said. "There is some speculation that humans were exposed to the virus from monkeys, though, so I won't tell you that your fears of cross-species contamination were completely unfounded."

"You really know your HIV stuff, Father."

"It was very hard-won knowledge. There's not much literature on it in Japan."

"How come?"

"Xenophobia, mostly. We look at it as a foreigners' disease. Perhaps that's fair enough; did you know it was first introduced to Japan through donated blood? Back in the 80s, before anyone really knew anything about it."

"I didn't know that."

"Well, now you do." Father Hakuro smiled weakly. "You know, I still have my notes, if you'd like to borrow them."

"I don't know if I'll need them."

"Well, the offer stands regardless. Even if your partner passes on, you might meet someone else with it."

Like the person who gave it to Hisoka, Tsuzuki thought, but didn't say aloud; instead he thanked Father Hakuro for his offer, and shortly thereafter made his excuses and left.

Muraki had been at the back of his mind for the past few days as well, and wandering the grounds of St. Michael's aimlessly brought thoughts of him forward. It was extremely bothersome that Muraki had known enough about him to choose the locations that he had, especially when he couldn't quite place where he knew the name "Muraki" from. Truth be told he didn't much _want_ to look further into it; the vague idea he had about where it came from made him very sure of that. But if the madman was still out there, and still focused on him, he couldn't go into fighting him blind.

It had begun raining. Tsuzuki thought to curse the bad luck and lack of foresight that had left him without an umbrella, but didn't feel passionately enough about it to actually do so. Instead he leaned his elbows on the railing that lined the cliff side, resolving to enjoy the view of the ocean while he had the time. The day was warm and the rain was light, and it seemed like it would pass soon.

Sooner than he thought, or so he momentarily believed. He hadn't realized that he'd closed his eyes to fully appreciate the scent of the saltwater mixing with that of the ozone, but upon the sudden lack of water dripping on his head he opened them. It had not, in fact, stopped raining, and he could thank his newfound shelter on an umbrella that someone was holding over his head.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki turned around, and Hisoka stepped back slightly, though still extending his arm to keep Tsuzuki's head covered. "What are you doing out here?"

"Thought you might have come this way when you weren't at work," Hisoka said, barely over a mumble. "I had something to tell you," he said, a bit louder.

"Yeah?" Tsuzuki glanced at Hisoka's outstretched arm. "D'you want me to take that?"

"No, it's fine. I'm fine."

"If you insist," Tsuzuki said, reluctantly. "You're sure you're okay to be out here?"

"Yes. A little rain won't kill me."

The statement was so ironic on a few different levels that Tsuzuki had to snort. He almost regretted it a second later, but a corner of Hisoka's mouth had turned up ever so slightly at the sound, and he found he didn't have to. "So, you had something you wanted to tell me...?"

"Yes." Hisoka tried to straighten himself up, to give the impression of total confidence. "I'm going to stay on as a Shinigami."

Something like shock mixed with trepidation and sprinkled with relief came over Tsuzuki. "You are?"

"Mmhmm. Miya and I talked it over." More like he announced his intention to stay, and she nodded. "She's going to stay with me, to make sure I don't die in my sleep."

"And you're sure that's what you want to do?"

"Do you not want me to?"

"No, no, that's not it," Tsuzuki said, thinking he saw Hisoka's face fall. "I'm just...honestly a little surprised. I did think you'd choose to pass on."

"Heaven isn't the place for me right now," Hisoka said, attempting nonchalance by glancing casually out at the ocean. "I don't want to be there until..."

Hisoka trailed off, but it wasn't as though he needed to continue. Tsuzuki had his own irrational, indefinable "until", and so did everyone in Meifu, Shinigami and civilian alike, even if the specifics varied. After a moment Tsuzuki reached out and took the stem of the umbrella in his fingers.

"We'll split umbrella-holding duties," Tsuzuki said. "When I, you know, stupidly forget to bring my own."

"All right." Hisoka relinquished the umbrella. Changing hands made the device settle a little closer to Tsuzuki, and so Hisoka followed suit. Tsuzuki turned once more, again facing the ocean, and once more Hisoka moved likewise.

"If I'm an ass," Tsuzuki said suddenly, after a few minutes of somewhat comfortable silence had passed, "if I say something that hurts you or offends you or is just completely stupid, I want you to tell me. Yell at me, or...I don't care if you throw something at my head, just do it. Don't let me get away with it."

It was Hisoka's turn to feel the strange concoction of surprise, reticence, and succor. "...All right..."

"I'm holding you to that," Tsuzuki said, trying to sound lighthearted. "You have to promise to not let me."

"I...promise," Hisoka said, one of his eyebrows rising up by the force of his confusion.

"Pinky promise. Yes, we're doing this," Tsuzuki said, as the look of bewilderment on Hisoka's face increased once Tsuzuki proffered his small finger. "Swearing to drink poison and all. Come on."

It took a few more seconds of Tsuzuki encouragingly brandishing his pinky for Hisoka to accept the offer. Tsuzuki tightened their respective grip on each other and bounced their hands up and down before letting go. "It's done. Amen."

"What?"

"Catholic thing. Never mind." Tsuzuki stretched his shoulders and back a little, hoping some relief would flow into the arm that held up the umbrella. "Are you heading back to Meifu now?"

Hisoka shrugged. "I suppose. Miya's rearranging the apartment. I should go help her with that."

"Then here you go," Tsuzuki said, handing the umbrella back to Hisoka.

"You're staying in Nagasaki?"

Tsuzuki thought he detected the tiniest note of disappointment in Hisoka's voice. "Just for a bit yet."

He smiled, and though Hisoka did not try to find out exactly what for, he knew it had to do with him, and he felt for the first time completely reassured that his decision to stay in Meifu was not the wrong one.

As for Tsuzuki, it felt as if a door had opened.

"I have to go borrow something from Father Hakuro."

* * *

**Author's Note**

I would feel very irresponsible as an author if I were to use HIV/AIDS as just a plot device and not truly acknowledge it as a real disease that affects millions. While both social awareness and medical treatment have advanced since 1997, when this story takes place, HIV/AIDS is still an epidemic to be combated, and a stigma to be overcome. The following organizations all focus on HIV/AIDS relief (some in addition to other areas of focus) and have been highly rated by Charity Navigator. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but they are good starting points if you wish to do more to help.

Africare

AIDS United

American Jewish World Service

amfAR

AMREF USA

Cascade AIDS Project

Catholic Medical Mission Board

City of Hope

Desert AIDS Project

Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation

Global AIDS Interfaith Alliance

PATH

Project Angel Heart

If you wish to help these or anything other charities, please do so wisely and research the organization to the best of your ability before giving time, effort, support, and/or money.


	6. Interlude - Introductions

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Notes:** The names of some of the Shinigami have been altered a bit, mainly to suit my personal tastes. As I said in a previous chapter, I've shuffled some of the Shikigami into the Shinigami posts: Kouchin has been merged with Kochou to become Nonomiya Chouko; Daion has become Inoue Yuudai; Tenkuu has become Miyamoto Tenchi; Genbu has inspired Kurosawa Rikuto (Genbu will appear in Gensoukai, though he is not one of Tsuzuki's Shiki); and the shiisaa Chizuru adopted has become Watanabe Shinobu. I renamed Shin as "Shinju" because I like it better.

Kiiro Manami is Maria Wong if she was Japanese. One of the readings of the last name "Wong" translates to "yellow", hence the last name "Kiiro" (Japanese for "yellow"). "Manami" can be split into "mana", with the kanji reading of "love; affection", and "mi", with the kanji meaning of "sea, ocean"; Miryam, the root name for Maria, has a debated etymology and could mean "sea of bitterness" from the Hebrew, but could also be based on "Mr", Egyptian for "love". I tell you this not because it particularly matters but because I like to show off my research skills.

Going to someone's house is a bigger deal in Japan than it is in America, but I just kinda _see_ Wakaba worming her way into Hisoka and Miya's apartment. It helps that they're all really teenagers and probably a little less inclined to formality.

* * *

Interlude I – Introductions

* * *

"Whatcha doing there, Tsuzuki?"

"Nothing." Tsuzuki quickly and none too subtly closed the book and flipped it over, hiding the title against the desk. He had hoped the obscure corner of the massive library would have protected him from anyone accidentally encroaching on his study of the books and handwritten notes Father Hakuro had given him—his own apartment actually would not, since other Shinigami and acquaintances of his in the building were likely to knock on his door for one reason or another—but of course Watari would not be bound by such things as amateur statistical analysis.

"Did I wake you up?" Watari said with a laugh.

"Yep, you caught me," Tsuzuki lied swiftly, gathering up the papers and settling them, facedown, on top of the book. So much for research. Hopefully the visit would be short; he still had yet to scour the library for any books that _it_ might have on the subject.

"How are you? I heard your last case was pretty rough." Watari sat down next to Tsuzuki. "You had to bring out three of your Shiki?"

"Yeah. And I landed in the hospital with a very crispy back," Tsuzuki said with a laugh.

"I heard from Tatsumi about that. You feeling okay now?"

"Obviously, since I'm walking around."

Watari lightly punched Tsuzuki in the arm. "Don't be cheeky."

"Sorry, sorry..."

"How about your new partner? Tatsumi said he got hurt, too."

"He did, but he's okay now," Tsuzuki said, with expertly rehearsed nonchalance.

"So who is this new guy anyway?" Watari pulled his chair closer. "I'm hearing some crazy things about him."

"Like what?" Tsuzuki said, hoping his cool hadn't melted.

"Like being able to use Reibaku and synchronization in close succession," Watari elaborated, much to Tsuzuki's invisible relief. "Is that true too?"

"Indeed it is."

"Oh, wow. That's really impressive. And he has other powers, too?"

"Yeah. He's got this thing called Empathy. The long and short of it is he can read people's emotions and get a sense of what kind of person they are."

"Nifty. It's about time you had a partner who's a good judge of character," Watari said. After a second, Watari inched his chair even closer to Tsuzuki. "You think this one'll work out?"

"Dunno," Tsuzuki said, with a tight shrug. "He's pretty young and he's qualified for Heaven, so he might get sick of the job and pass on sooner rather than later."

"But he's okay to work with? He doesn't give you any problems, right?"

"No. No, he's okay to work with so far. He's a good kid, and we don't really clash too bad, I think." He hoped. "I think this'll be an okay working relationship."

"That's good," Watari said with a grin, and then a wink, while standing. "So long as he doesn't take my place."

Tsuzuki laughed, both at Watari's brazenness and the morbid absurdity of the suggestion. "I really don't think that'll happen."

"It better not," Watari said in high-pitched singsong. "So what's this kid's name, anyway?"

"Well, it might be better to introduce you two in person," Tsuzuki said, catching sight of a small movement between the bookshelves. Hisoka hadn't mentioned to him any plans to visit the library, but thinking about it Tsuzuki could see how he might enjoy the place. "Hisoka! Over here."

Hisoka stopped at the sound of Tsuzuki's voice and turned. Tsuzuki was waving at him from just behind and to the left of someone else, and Hisoka took a few seconds to steel himself for meeting a stranger. Confronting the emotions emanating off of people he was not familiar with was as clawingly noticeable as being around someone who had overdone their perfume, complete with the attendant headache and betimes watery eyes.

"Watari, this is Kurosaki Hisoka," Tsuzuki said, once Hisoka had braced himself enough to come forward. "Hisoka, this is Watari Yutaka, from Area Six."

"Good to meet you," Watari said, to Hisoka's relief not sticking out his hand but giving a very small, very quick bow, to which Hisoka responded in kind with a "You as well."

"I thought you were headed home after work," Tsuzuki said.

"Picking up some light reading?" Watari asked with a half-smile, surveying the stack of books Hisoka carried in his arms. "A fellow bookworm is a welcome sight for me."

"They're all cookbooks," Tsuzuki said, surveying the spines.

"Any form of written word counts as reading," Watari returned flippantly. "I take it you like cooking, Kurosaki?"

"'Hisoka' is fine," Hisoka said, taking Watari mildly aback at the flatness of his tone. "And these are mostly for necessity."

"Ah, so 'not much experience', that was my second guess," Watari said. "Only newbies and connoisseurs would take out so many at a time. Let me give you some advice: no matter how hungry you get, never let this one here cook for you."

"Hey!"

"Tsuzuki, you know how fond I am of you, but when a body can't tell if they're being fed or poisoned, you know you're not that great at cooking."

"I am not that bad."

"Yes, you are."

Tsuzuki made a face, though Hisoka could tell that his hurt was only the mildest of ones, the hurt of unearned pride being poked. "Well, sorry. Boys weren't exactly taught to cook in my time."

"You've had plenty of opportunity to learn since then."

"Talents have to be inborn or taught young," Tsuzuki said, with the sanctimony characteristic of one who is purposely spouting quasi-believable nonsense.

"Oh, bullshit, _'Jiichan_," Watari said with a laugh. "You're just too lazy to do anything but pick up the phone and order in."

"Well, I _was_ taught to use the phone as a child..."

Watari leaned over and made to smack Tsuzuki on the back of the head; Tsuzuki ducked.

"Anyway, if you're going to let any of your coworkers cook for you, you'll want it to be Kannuki Wakaba," Watari said, turning his attention back to Hisoka. "Have you met her yet?"

"I don't think you've really met anyone yet, have you?" Tsuzuki asked, once Hisoka had shaken his head at Watari's question.

"No."

Watari groaned with amusement and sympathy. "You're in for it."

"I'm sorry?"

"Our coworkers are a..._colorful_ bunch," Tsuzuki explained.

"Actually, it's good that he hasn't met them yet," Watari said. "We can take this time to prepare him."

"That's probably a smart idea," Tsuzuki said, catching Hisoka's eye. He thought that if Hisoka had even the slightest forewarning of what a person was like, it might go easier on him upon meeting them. Hisoka thought similarly, and set his books on the table.

"I'd appreciate that, if it's not too much trouble."

"Gossip is never too much trouble," Watari said, moving to the other side of the table to fetch another chair, which he dragged over to the corner next to his and Tsuzuki's. Hisoka sat in it before Watari could offer him the central chair, preferring not to be stuck between two people; Watari, mildly surprised but choosing not to inquire, took the central chair. "So...how shall we do this, do you think?"

"Might as well do it numerically," Tsuzuki said. "I guess I'll kick it off." He cleared his throat, trying to sound teacher-like. "So, Area 1 is Okinawa, and that's Oshiro Sengoku and Akamine Chizuru."

"Sengoku's an asshole, just so you know," Watari interrupted.

"Not a people person," Tsuzuki confirmed. "We don't see him that often, but if we ever go down to Okinawa for some reason and you're around him, just make yourself look busy and keep out of his way. Chizuru's a real sweetheart, though. She's very friendly. And also obscenely strong, so if you ever need any heavy lifting done, she's your girl."

"All right," Hisoka said, bobbing his head.

"We're Area 2, so Watari gets to cover Area 3," Tsuzuki said, glancing at his friend.

"Area 3 is Shikouku and it's covered by the Kanawa twins, Yukina and Tsukiko," Watari said. "They are also better avoided than engaged. It's not that they're especially tough, but they're pretty nasty. We have an annual intra-office archery contest on the New Year, and they've found a way to cheat every. Single. Year that they've participated in it."

"And beyond that they're just huge gossips and, you know, not pleasant to be around," Tsuzuki added. "So, yeah, stay away from them as much as you can."

Hisoka felt his stomach coil a bit. "All right."

"Back to you for Area 4," Watari said, nodding at Tsuzuki.

"That's Chuugoku and it's run by Kazuma Shinju and Nonomiya Chouko. You won't see too much of them unless you use the archery room. They're nice enough, though."

"If you're a woman," Watari muttered.

Hisoka thought he felt a strain of bitterness emanate off Watari but before he could dwell on it Tsuzuki had piped up again. "Yeah, Shinju doesn't really like men. We don't know why. But it's nothing huge; if you're respectful to her she'll be respectful to you. Mostly. Chouko's more uniformly nice, though."

Hisoka nodded.

"Area 5 is Tokyo," Watari said, and trailed off, looking at Tsuzuki.

"It's run by Kobayashi Shouta and Masaki Asuka," Tsuzuki said, strongly. "I worked with both of them in the past. Kobayashi I didn't get to know terribly well." Kobayashi had heard the stories about Tsuzuki and immediately jumped on an opportunity to transfer into Area 5 once it was announced that the Shinigami there was planning to retire. "Asuka was my partner right before you; I think I mentioned him before. He's a nice kid."

"Area 6—Kinki—is my domain," Watari said as if trying to interrupt, even though Tsuzuki had gone quiet. "For propriety's sake I will refrain from praising myself. My partner is Kiiro Manami."

"The singer?" Miya had gushed about Kiiro Manami a few years back and had been devastated to learn of the diva's suicide.

"That'd be her. She's a lovely young woman. Also a vampire."

"...A what?"

"I really admire the subtle way you worked that into the conversation, Watari," Tsuzuki said flatly. "Manami-chan must appreciate the pains you take to be discreet."

"Oh, Manami-chan doesn't care and you know it," Watari said with a dismissive flap of the hand.

"She carries a fuda that inhibits her thirst," Tsuzuki explained, seeing Hisoka turn a bewildered, startled face towards him. "So you don't have to worry about her swooping down on you."

"She's not a full-blooded vampire so she can't turn people by biting them, in any case," Watari said.

"Don't let the fact that she's a vampire scare you," Tsuzuki said, surprised at the swell of earnest defensiveness in him. "You would like her, Hisoka. She's a very...I guess _gentle_ is the best way to describe her."

"Ferocious when she's forced to be, though," Watari said with a shrug, not noticing Hisoka studying Tsuzuki with his gaze or Tsuzuki looking away, marveling at the nerve it took to lecture Hisoka on accepting people with frightening physical conditions. "She's a good partner," he continued fondly. "I'll introduce you two tomorrow. And now I believe it's back to you for Area 7, Tsuzuki?"

"Kanto is run by Kannuki Wakaba and Terazuma Hajime," Tsuzuki said.

"Somebody mentioned me?"

"Clearly the library is where all the interesting, good-looking people hang out," Watari said, as a female face attached to a cascade of hair peeked around the corner of a bookshelf. Hisoka recognized her as a girl from Tsuzuki's memories, the one who two of the Shiki he had seen were contracted with.

"I was looking for cookbooks but all the good ones seem to be taken," Wakaba said, half-skipping towards the group.

"Tsuzuki's new partner is teaching himself to cook," Watari said, gesturing towards the stack of books Hisoka had put on the table.

"Oh, so _you're_ him!" Wakaba smiled brightly as she came to a stop at the table. "I'm so pleased to meet you. My name is Kannuki Wakaba. 'Wakaba' is fine."

"Kurosaki Hisoka," Hisoka returned, letting his hand slip lightly into Wakaba's outstretched one. "My given name is fine, too."

"Very well, Hisoka-kun. Please treat my Tsuzuki-niisan kindly," Wakaba said, giving a playfully supplicating bow once she let go of Hisoka's hand.

"I've known Wakaba since she was a baby," Tsuzuki said by way of explanation, as Wakaba hopped over to him and settled her hands on his shoulder. "She's special amongst us Shinigami because she's lived here all her life, but she only died recently."

"My birth parents abandoned me," Wakaba explained, and Hisoka felt the hurt that came from that knowledge, even though her cheeriness had not diminished. "The people who used to run Kanto found me and brought me here to Meifu to raise me."

"I didn't know Shinigami could do that," Hisoka said.

"Well, they were a married couple and living in Meifu _is_ supposed to be an extension of living in Chijou, so I suppose Enma-daiou thought it only natural and appropriate that they would want to raise a child," Wakaba said. "So I lived here and went to school in Chijou until I died. Car accident, about five years ago. I think I've had the easiest transition into death of anyone who ever lived," she said with a laugh. "Two years after that my partner finished his Shinigami training and put in for a post, and since my parents were planning to retire about the same time, he and I took over the area."

"And he's a piece of work," Watari muttered, just loudly enough to make it obvious that he wanted to be heard.

"He is not!" Wakaba protested, emphatically but weakly at the same time. "He's just high-strung, is all."

"Wakaba is the most generous and forgiving of souls," Watari said, nodding to Hisoka. "To be otherwise would be to not be able to work with Terazuma."

"He's not the friendliest," Tsuzuki muttered.

"Especially towards Tsuzuki," Watari filled in.

"Hisoka-kun, don't let them bias you against my partner," Wakaba huffed. "Hajime is just..." She cast her mind and her eye about, trying to come up with a proper descriptor, before both landed on the stack of cookbooks. "An acquired taste."

"If you say so," Tsuzuki said with a shrug, and she squeezed his shoulders tightly both as an affectionate and a warning gesture.

"I will make sure you meet him and get a _proper_ introduction, Hisoka-kun," Wakaba said firmly.

"Thank...you..." Hisoka said slowly. The defensiveness radiating off Tsuzuki and Wakaba were like two very strong and very opposing scents. "And who's in charge of Area 8?"

"We've been telling Hisoka about the other Shinigami," Tsuzuki explained quickly to Wakaba.

"Oh! Um...Area 8 is Tohouku, and it's run by Inoue Yuudai and Miyamoto Tenchi," Wakaba said, like a child reciting for a teacher in the hopes of being praised for their intelligence.

"You'll see Miyamoto more than Inoue," Tsuzuki said. "Inoue likes to sneak around and play practical jokes. Miyamoto is a lot more staid. They're pretty mismatched, honestly."

"Well, lots of us are, or have been," Watari said with a shrug. "They're making it work."

"Area 9 is not in the least mismatched, though..." Wakaba said with a grin.

"Ah, yes," Watari drawled, his smile matching Wakaba's, and Hisoka noticed Tsuzuki's own countenance light up. "Area 9 is Hokkaido and it's run by Fukiya Yuma and Torii Saya. I am absolutely sure you will meet them soon, and you will need to lie down and sleep forever afterwards."

"There really aren't words to describe them," Tsuzuki said, seeing Hisoka turn his face to him for explanation.

"Well, I'd argue that," Watari said.

"Make your case."

"I would describe them as unstoppable forces of nature, if nature was extremely girly and never knew when to stop talking."

"I would call that a valiant attempt at a description; well done." Watari gave an exaggerated bow, and Tsuzuki turned his head to look at Hisoka. "They have no concept of personal space, at all, just so you know. And they're very...hands-on."

"Oh, but they're such darlings," Wakaba said, with a nonetheless knowing laugh. "They're the nicest people you will ever meet. They just want to love everything and everyone."

"You sound like them," Tsuzuki said, reaching up to carefully tug on Wakaba's hair. "Are we sure you're not one of them wearing a wig?"

"Please, as if they could meet your partner without trying to dress him up on the spot."

"Oh yeah, that's the other thing about them...they're big on women's clothes. Particularly men in women's clothes," Watari said, and Hisoka was surprised to feel genuine happiness—almost giddiness—coming from Watari. "You might be eventually coerced into dressing up for them, just so you know. And probably sooner than you think."

"We'll do our best to protect you from them," Tsuzuki said, hoping the undertone of seriousness he attempted would make it to Hisoka's understanding. It did, if the mild flash of gratefulness in Hisoka's eyes was any indication.

"These two are such doomsayers," Wakaba said, bopping her fist on Tsuzuki's head. "They'll scare you off of everyone here, Hisoka-kun, so don't pay them too much attention. Yuma and Saya are very nice people. They are just...eccentric."

"Wakaba-chan _is_ right," Watari said warmly. "They're lovely. A bit much, but lovely, and they're very good friends of ours. And that brings us to Area 10, yes? Chuubu. And that's Kurosawa Rikuto and Watanabe Shinobu. Not much to report about them..."

"I've known Kurosawa-san for awhile, though I don't see him too often," Tsuzuki said. "He's old, and smart, and a bit of a moneygrubber."

"You're one to talk," Watari murmured, giving a shit-eating grin when Tsuzuki scowled at him.

"There's not much to say about Shinobu beyond that he's painfully shy," Tsuzuki continued. "Mainly because he _is_ painfully shy. We haven't gotten to know him much. Chizuru gets along with him, but she's the only one who's close with him beyond Kurosawa. And...that's pretty much all I can say. That's all the field agents."

"He's met Kachou and Tatsumi, right?" Watari asked.

"Kachou yes, Tatsumi...I don't think so." Tsuzuki looked to Hisoka, who shook his head. "Tatsumi is the Secretary for Shokan-ka. He's Kachou's assistant, basically, and he controls our budget. We used to be...we used to work together, a long time ago."

"He's a tightwad and a hardass, but we're fond of him regardless," Watari said, a bit too loudly, trying and failing to turn Hisoka's suddenly rapt attention away from Tsuzuki.

"Tatsumi is..." Tsuzuki curled his tongue up so the tip of it touched the roof of his mouth. "He's exactly what Watari says," he finally forced out with a laugh. "And it's hard to tell what he's thinking a lot of the time. But he's a good man. Even if he doesn't seem like it sometimes."

"Hmm," Wakaba intoned conspicuously, propping her elbow up on Tsuzuki's head so she could rest her chin on the heel of her palm. "I think he's a little softer than you two give him credit for."

"I think _you_ are too nice," Watari said, leaning over to poke Wakaba in the nose; she batted his hand away with a giggle and a raspberry. When he pulled it back, his watch caught his eye. "Oh my, look at the time." He stood, putting his hands on the table and stretching out his back; his movement finally tore Hisoka's stare away from Tsuzuki. "I should really go clean up the apartment and start in on dinner. We're going out later still, right?" he directed at Tsuzuki.

"Yeah," Tsuzuki said, and suddenly Hisoka was hit with a wave of heat from Watari and Tsuzuki that blasted him in the face and forced him to his feet.

"Oh? You're heading home too, Hisoka-kun?" Wakaba said, straightening up.

"I should," Hisoka said, the words spilling out of his mouth. "I should...get these to Miya. My roommate."

"I'm going to stay here for a little bit yet, before I come over, Watari," Tsuzuki said, looking decidedly at anything that was not Hisoka.

"Oh, then if you're not going to show Hisoka-kun out, I'll do it," Wakaba said. "That is, if you don't mind, Hisoka-kun? I can help you carry your books."

"I don't mind," Hisoka said quickly, feeling as if his cheeks were burning, and wondering if that was because of what he sensed, or what he felt because of that. "Thank you."

"Okay. I'll see you at work tomorrow, Tsuzuki-niisan," Wakaba said, kissing the top of Tsuzuki's head. He reached up, patting her hair affectionately.

"See you then. Both of you," he added, glancing quickly at Hisoka.

"See you then," Hisoka mumbled back, as Wakaba moved around the table to bid goodbye to Watari, and pick up half of the stack of cookbooks.

* * *

"So how do you like working with Tsuzuki?" Wakaba asked, as soon as she and Hisoka were out of Tsuzuki and Watari's earshot. She glanced over at her traveling companion, who himself had glanced back over his shoulder. "I know it's only been a few days, and a rough few days at that, but..."

Hisoka nearly missed the question, but figured it out from recalling the sounds she had made and the context of her second statement. "It's all right."

Wakaba giggled, though a little darkly. "Guess that's the best that can be said at this point, considering. I hope your missions get easier for you."

"Thanks."

"And even if they don't, no worries. Tsuzuki will make sure you stay safe."

"Mm."

Wakaba's normally sweet face settled into a frown at Hisoka's noncommittal grunt. She readjusted her load of books and inhaled deeply, steeling herself. "I'm sorry if this is too blunt, but I really meant it when I asked you to treat Tsuzuki kindly." She glanced over her shoulder, making sure that there was no chance Tsuzuki could hear her. "I don't know if you know, but a couple of his partnerships have fallen apart pretty messily. And maybe I'm biased, but I don't think any of those were Tsuzuki's fault. But it's been pretty rough on him, so if you could just...be good about him, I would really appreciate it."

Wakaba realized that she had brought Hisoka up short when he didn't have a response for her, and had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm just...very protective of Tsuzuki. Which is why I wish he and my partner got along better," she said with a laugh. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to be so off-putting." She stopped long enough to bow, equal parts playful and serious.

"I'm not put off," Hisoka said, not very convincingly. "And I don't plan on going anywhere soon," he added, slightly moreso.

"Thank you. That's very reassuring to hear." When she lifted her head, she was beaming at him. "Anyway. We should probably get to know each other better if we're going to be colleagues." She resumed her pace towards the exit to the library, Hisoka lagging a few steps behind her. "Where are you from originally?"

"Kamakura."

"Oh?" She was able to get a good look at him when she pushed the door leading outside open and held it for him, despite his gestures intimating that he could take over door-holding duties for her if she wanted. "Kamakura City?"

"No, the village."

"That's too strange," Wakaba said, stepping away from the door and letting it close after Hisoka had passed her. "My parents found me in that area. Not _in_ the village, but not too far from it, either." Her laugh was again uncomfortable. "Did you know anyone who was missing a child...?"

Hisoka paused for a moment, studying her; she did likewise for him, though less intensely. "When were you adopted?"

"Um...well if I were still alive I'd be nineteen, so nineteen years ago, about."

"That was before I was born. So..." He trailed off, disappointed that the lead to figuring out why this girl felt familiar had gone cold.

"So nothing doing," Wakaba sighed. "It's okay. I don't really have a desire to know my birth parents."

"Same here," Hisoka mumbled, under his breath, but not quietly enough for Wakaba to not hear him.

"Oh, were you...?"

"I wasn't adopted. I just..."

"...I see," Wakaba said, once an elaboration was not forthcoming, thereby proving that it was not necessary. "I haven't had any jobs in Kamakura Village since I started on as a Shinigami, but my parents tell me that it's just not generally a nice place."

"They're not wrong."

"I'm sorry you had to live there, then," Wakaba said, with a wry smile. "Here is much nicer, I suspect. You're living with a roommate?"

"Himura Miya. I knew her from Kamakura."

"Oh, is she your girlfriend?"

"She's like my sister."

"Aw, that's nice. Does she like to cook? Or are you handling that?"

"We'll see. Neither of us have really cooked before."

"Ooh, really?" Wakaba suddenly seemed excited. "Forgive me if this is also too forward—I think I'm just a forward person," she interjected with a laugh, "but I've been told I'm good at teaching people how to cook, and if you're both brand new at it, then maybe I could help you start learning?"

"Um…"

"If I'm putting you out, you can say no," Wakaba rushed to reassure. "I just don't have any plans for tonight, and since I figured I'd be following you to your place, because of the books, it'd be nice to keep talking with you and meet your roommate…"

"Let me…let me call Miya, and see if she's okay with that," Hisoka nearly stuttered. The thought of ever entertaining at the apartment hadn't crossed his mind, though he didn't want to force Miya into sharing only his company for the rest of their life in Meifu. And Wakaba seemed nice; he could tell that Tsuzuki certainly liked her… The thought of Tsuzuki caused a tiny knot to form in Hisoka's gut, and he attempted to recover from it by leaning down and putting his stack of books on the floor.

"Okay. Then I'm going to nip into the bathroom, while you do." Wakaba also relieved herself of her stack of books. "And it's okay if she doesn't want me to come, again; I just thought it'd be nice. There's a payphone over there," she pointed a little further down the hall, "but you can use the employee code and use it for free. 308723."

"Thanks." He waited for Wakaba to safely disappear into the ladies' room, before walking hurriedly to the payphone, punching in the code, and then his apartment's phone number.

"Hello, you've reached Himura and Kurosaki." Miya's voice had not lost the formality that she had been trained to have whenever she answered the phone at the Kurosaki mansion.

"It's me."

"Oh, hey. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine."

"Where are you?"

"Leaving the library. I picked up some cookbooks. Listen, my partner introduced me to some of his coworkers, and one of them wants to come over."

"Right now?"

"Yeah. Her name is Wakaba and she's reportedly a good cook, so she offered to help us out. Told her I'd ask you."

"That's…that's quick."

"She's pretty forward. Said so herself, and I picked up on it anyway. Apparently most of the people who work here are a little odd."

"Oh. They're okay though? You're okay with them?"

Hisoka waited a second too long to say "Yeah." Miya picked up on it and held it on the side of her mind.

"Well, I wouldn't mind meeting her if you think she's all right. I finished cleaning up, so it's not a mess at the apartment."

"Can you put those…things…away?"

""Those"…? Oh. Yeah, I'll put those in your room." Stashes of Hisoka's pills were held in only two locations: his apartment, and in a cabinet in Dr. Hazama's office. "So where is this Wakaba girl now?"

"In the bathroom."

"Oh, okay. How's your day been?"

"Fine. Quiet, for the most part." Hisoka liked the fact that he and Tsuzuki shared an office with a large, heavy door rather than a fusuma or worse, a shoji. Thick slabs of wood were much better at keeping out people's emotions than thin sheets of rice paper.

"Did you meet a lot of your coworkers?"

"No, just two, when I went to the library. Tsuzuki introduced me to Wakaba and this one other person."

"And how is it going with your little crush, Hisokkun?" Miya asked, letting her voice slip into singsong with her last words.

"Tsuzuki's in love with someone else," Hisoka said flatly. "And he's..." the words felt disgusting on his tongue "...sleeping with someone else besides that, too."

A very thick silence preceded Miya's one-word answer: "Oh."

"He's not…cheating on anyone," Hisoka said, picking up Miya's sudden and total contempt for Tsuzuki merely from instinct, rather than Empathy, and feeling compelled to defend him. "It's complicated, I'm assuming."

"Mmhmm."

"And I do not have a crush on him," Hisoka muttered, quietly enough for Miya to ignore it.

"Well." Miya cleared her throat. "Are you rethinking your decision to stay on as a Shinigami?"

"I told you, I didn't keep the job because of him."

"Regardless," Miya said briskly. "You promised me that if your partner made you uncomfortable, you would quit."

"He doesn't make me uncomfortable."

"You're sure?"

"It's a lot less gross coming from him than from my parents."

"...Thanks for that. Ew." The nature of the relationship, if it could be called that, between Nagare and his second wife was an open secret among the staff of the house, and even those who resented Rui for her angry outbursts and mistreatment of her son had to pity the woman for her status, which she obviously knew and felt very keenly, as the replacement for her twin sister.

Dimly he heard the sound of a toilet flushing. "She's coming back."

"Okay. I'll go put your stuff away. See you and your new friend in a little bit, Hisokkun."

"See you soon."

* * *

"So your new partner seems quiet."

"Yeah, he's pretty shy," Tsuzuki called back. He had taken a seat on Watari's couch, while Watari occupied the bedroom, which was attached directly to the living room, getting dressed. The shoji to the bedroom was shut, necessitating them to half-shout their conversation through it.

"Hard to imagine him as battle-ready."

"Well, believe me, he can hold his own when he needs to."

"If you say so. He seems nice enough, though, in any case, which makes me feel better about him working with you."

"Yeah, you don't have to worry about that so much, I don't think."

"Well, I always worry about you, you know that."

"I do indeed."

"But I'll try to keep that to a minimum for now."

"Are you almost ready in there?"

"You know better than to rush me," Watari replied in sing-song. There was a pause as Tsuzuki listened to Watari shuffle around the bedroom. "Think we could draw your partner out of his shell enough to get him to come out with us sometime?"

"I don't think booze and karaoke is really his thing."

"Aw, that's too bad."

"I'd like to introduce him to Yuma and Saya in a quieter environment, also."

"Ah, yes. Probably wise." Watari punctuated the statement by pulling open the bedroom fusuma and stepping into the living room. "How do I look?"

Watari's long hair was bound up high, a few loose tendrils hanging down to frame the face. Above jeans that couldn't be as tight as Watari wanted was a black, sleeveless turtleneck with a small diamond shape cut into it just above the bust, which had been created by a bra stuffed with soft fabric. High heels and expertly applied make-up completed the look, with small silver strands hanging from Watari's earlobes as the cherry on top.

"Amazing."

Watari grinned. "Not too stuffy?"

"Not at all."

"Yeah?" Watari spun, showing off and moving closer to Tsuzuki at the same time.

"Hand to God. You've got a reserved-but-hot-housewife look tonight." Being friends with Watari had given Tsuzuki a ripe imagination, and attendant vocabulary, for this sort of thing. "The outfit's great."

"Good. And hopefully I won't be wearing it for too long, anyway." Watari winked; Tsuzuki smirked. "Think you wanna be my Plan B tonight if nothing works out?"

"I live to be your second-choice booty call, remember?"

"Aw. You know sometimes you're my first choice."

"Thanks," Tsuzuki laughed.

"Ready to go? Saya and Yuma are probably getting antsy."

"Yeah, we should head out now." A portal not too far from Watari's apartment led them straight to a karaoke bar in Hokkaido where Saya had worked as a dancer, back in the 70s when it had been a club and she had been alive. The place held good memories for her—it was where she and Yuma had met—and it was safe enough to frequent, since none of her coworkers back then still worked there. Tsuzuki bowed dramatically, gesturing to the front door as he did so. "Beauty before age."

"How utterly and Western-ly gallant of you," Watari said with a chuckle.

"Well, I like to think I know how to treat a lady."

He didn't watch as Watari opened the door, but he could feel her beaming smile contained within her words. "That you do."

* * *

**Note:**

Similar to my idea of Hisoka being HIV-positive, I have a pet theory of Watari being a transwoman, based on the running sex-change potion gag/sub-plot in the manga. I was initially planning on not revealing this until much later, but about halfway through this chapter I began to feel too awkward about the idea of misgendering Watari for the next several chapters. So, even though Watari currently presents as a man and in most cases the characters will refer to Watari as "he" and "him", from now on I—that is, the narration, and the characters who know about Watari's gender identity—will refer to Watari as "she" and "her".

In conjunction with that, I've been interested in exploring a friends-with-benefits relationship between Tsuzuki and Watari. TsuSoka shippers needn't worry, since WaTsu are not soulmates and therefore not endgame for me, but I still thought it'd be fun to try a WaTsu casual FWB relationship for a bit.


End file.
